Hunger
by RenaRoo
Summary: The turtles must survive the Zombie Apocalypse, but how? And how can mild mannered Donatello overcome an unsettling viewpoint on the entire scenario? Very gory. Very funnily gory.
1. Outbreak

To begin with, as usual, I blame Effar. She's a very good friend and Beta who, unlike what normal people would do when I approached them with such a ludicrous concept, supported me all the way. It's amazing and thank you so much! Thank you very much for allowing me to ruin the innocence of anyone who will read this story XD Without further ado, here goes my take on... Zombies and Turtles...

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger**  
Chapter One: Outbreak

My brothers and I were crossing this barren wasteland that used to be a pretty corner otherwise known as Central Park when we came across a distressed woman. For us at this point it was a little less than unusual to see these fine specimens in boisterous glory, screaming and running toward us with a twisted, frozen expression of horror on her face.

We had to be critical, however, and we immediately went about setting ourselves in a shell to shell arrangement, our eyes set upon the screaming woman.

Defense was our greatest protection and only option until we found out whether or not this woman had been infected.

That's right. I said "infected."

It had been two months since the outbreak of the zombie virus had taken effect across our great state, nearly three months since the first case had been reported somewhere in North Canton, Ohio. Good job, Buckeyes.

I was as skeptical as you when I first heard the news and wasn't all that willing to believe that something so... droll and unimaginative as a modern day Syfy Channel special was possible in reality. But I must assure you it is, I can tell you for certainty.

As usual we had Leonardo at the head of our group and he was none too surprised with our little guest either. We had been going through Central Park in broad daylight lately because with our sewer stank we ranked too much like a corpse for the Afflicted to pay all that much attention to us. Sometimes Michelangelo even bent over and pretended to limp while jokingly moaning and groaning.

Raphael used it as a sort of camouflage for when he went "head hunting" in the midst of the Concrete Jungle. Leo and I both just appreciated the fact that it ordinarily kept us from being bitten, eaten, or unintentionally devoured by the zombies. All would be a most gruesome fate, after all.

That day, however, we had just had a bath for Master Splinter and Klunk's sensitive noses could no longer tolerate the consistent fragrance of feces and stagnant water on us any longer.

We had the option of bathing at Casey's apartment or never coming home again. We opted for the first.

Our scent's "natural" camouflage was no longer on our side and it was a grave possibility that this screaming woman was A) a zombie with a problem with keeping her affliction secret, or B) being chased by a group of zombies.

You're thinking "Oh, she's being chased by zombies!? Why aren't you saving her?" to which I must reply, "No, we're fine with our non-infected, non-eaten lives and no matter how many times we try that scenario it just does not seem to work out for us in the end."

I mean, damn it, there are more of those sick things now than there are people in New York. This is, of course, with the exception of Little Italy. The zombies seem to know not to go there for some reason.

Zombies don't last long against Sicilians.

The woman was still shrilling at the top of her lungs. By that time she was close enough for us to see her rotten flesh hanging off her neck like some sort of dangling wobble on a turkey.

Her once fair face was shrouded by the tanned leather hide stretched over it like a thin plastic bag, ripping at the jaw's unhinged seams. She even smelled like a putrid, rotting corpse as she came squealing, running at us like a mother bear protecting its cubs.

Well... I do suppose she **was** a rotting corpse which made her an exception to basic hygiene and facial care edicate.

"Ah, it's only one," Raph muttered in blatant disappointment as he straightened and spun his Sai expectantly.

I looked to my brother and frowned at the familiar, near-homicidal gleam in his eyes. He was in Head Hunter mode and I should have expected no less after he and Casey had been spending the time feverishly overjoyed with the concept of bagging some more animated corpses that day.

"She looks like the one at the top floor of the original 'Silent Hill,' guys!" Mike exclaimed as he jumped joyously at the opportunity to put his moves into practice. "You remember? You remember?"

"Yes, I remember," Raph snapped snidely. "I had to beat that level for you!"

"And I had to stay up with you because of the nightmares," Leo responded dryly before looking at the sickeningly green sludge of decaying matter and congealed gastric acid spewing from the opened wound in her stomach, no doubt where her fellow Afflicted had decided to snack.

At the same time as Leo, I felt an uncomfortable raise of bile in the back of my throat and it occurred to me why I had been getting so close to my older brother in the past few months.

Neither of us could tolerate the dirty, gritty aspects of these damned undead messes.

"Who wants dibs?" Raph asked as the beast was upon us, scratching and clawing the air with its broken, bloody fingernails before it ever came close to us.

"Me! ME!" Mike exclaimed.

I felt my stomach lurch forward and I almost lost it right there at the thought of the unholy mess that would ensue if either of those two actually began to go Zombie Slaying right then and there. Neither of them had any sentiment toward the Afflicted Creatures.

"What do you say, Leo?" Raph grinned.

Our fearless, pale leader ground his teeth and shook his head. "Sure, from a distance, though, Mike - you get infected and I'll have to explain to Klunk why he's an orphan."

In truth, Leo didn't want them to go against the zombie woman at all, but what can you do when you can't necessarily admit that you still feel sympathy toward the things that are trying to kill you. He would do it if it was an overwhelming threat, which this injured, brainless zombie was not, but while it was nothing more than a rabid dog... It's like putting down Old Yeller for instance.

Mike rushed forward and dodged the useless swipes of the Undead Mistress before grabbing a strip of metal debris lying across the well treaded, blood soaked earth of lovely Central Park and smacking her against the head, bursting her skull open like a piñata with the tissue matter of her long ago dead brain as replacement for the candy.

Raph laughed and I just about hurled, turning around to keep myself from getting too over excited by the instance.

Leo grabbed my shoulder. "You alright, Don?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," I gasped as I calmed my breath.

Herein laid my problem during the Zombie Apocalypse.

No matter how hard I tried, I could not get myself to view the Zombie Slaughter as anything more than murder. And I'm not even sure why that bothered me so much because I had killed before, no problem. Don't screw with me or my family. Some people need to be taken out before they take out someone else, etcetera etcetera.

But before the outbreak of Swine Flu in the early months of 2009, there had not really been anything these people would have done to others. Certainly they would not have done anything punishable by death. These were sick, stricken ill humans and animals who had somehow obtained an over reactive immunity to an uncommon flu strand.

I know, you're wondering why the immunity caused the outbreak rather than the flu strand itself. That's simple, though - trust me, I'm a scientist.

When people built up an immunity to a bad case of flu they began to panic and suddenly every sucker wanted an immunity to every known disease out there. Hell, they were even selling immunization shots for the common cold at one point.

That was enough of a "super immunity" that it became overactive in their own systems. Essentially, with no bacteria or viruses to fight the T-Cells and immunity of people's own bodies said "Fine, we'll take control." They did and began attacking their hosts like the viruses that they had been used to fight.

Basically, the brain and other organs other than the heart and lungs carried no use anymore and the only instincts that survived in the formerly intelligent species were to eat and kill.

We were basically living in the midst of a Flea Market gun show and there's TONS and TONS of people swarming us to get the rifle we just bought. The only thing is, fortunately, zombies are not as scary.

The zombie hit the ground and I finally composed myself enough to look over her with the others.

"Good job, Mike," Leo grunted over his swallowed breath.

Raph laughed and clapped a hand on our triumphant brother's shoulder as the once innocent turtle slung his bloodied weapon down to keep its dripping end cleared of clotting material. Raphael gleamed. "You're moving gaming to a whole new level, Bro."

And indeed, he had. That was all this was to my brothers: a game.

Even Leo was playing more than I was - he needed to keep himself and the rest of us alive. I did not have that same killer desire.

I found myself in a world of zombies with no inspiration for hunting them.

But I knew I had to overcome this fast because the Afflicted's hunger was only growing. And it was growing fast.

A/N: Shout out to everyone from the places mentioned - you know I really love you guys, that's why I kid like that ;P As for the story, if you didn't catch on, "Afflicted" is what I'm going to use as a pseudonym for our little zombie friends.

Feedback Appreciated


	2. Expertise

I am so shocked that I am getting away with writing this. Not shocked that the TMNT community hasn't seen crazier but just shocked that anyone who knows that I write something as fantastically awful in the humor department as Mutamon! would tolerate me defacing the world of zombie magic. THAT, my friends, is impressive. And I still blame Effar.

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger**  
Chapter Two: Expertise

Not long after Mike took care of our little mistress of the undead a swarm came for us. It was like vultures gathering for a feast except these, of course, are decaying, unfortunate messes which can only respond to the instinctual need for food.

That didn't keep us from wailing on them.

I say "us" very loosely. I found it much easier to use my Bo to cripple the masses with firm swings to their legs. At one notable time there were three skeletal creatures with the blubbery fat of a good meal still hanging from their decrepit bones that came for me.

Afflicted creatures move at an incredibly slow pace, as you can imagine, so I was able to take my time and spin for optimal force before allowing the end of my Bo staff collide with their calves.

It was rather sad when one's leg split completely in two after one of my otherwise harmless strikes. I couldn't help feeling sorry for it, but I at least had the comfort of not being eaten by these… lifeless corpses.

My brothers could not say as much while their blades and chucks decapitated and impaled anything that moved and was not a healthy turtle green – sickly, decaying green obviously was alright to penetrate and destroy.

Raphael in particular found it more than necessary to take his Sai and, as one creature was allowed dangerously near him, drive them through the zombie's ear canals.

"Ew!" he snapped as the pale, yellow sap of stale cerebral fluid leaded out onto his beloved Sai.

He dropped the zombie's inanimate corpse and grunted about now having to clean his weapons.

I just sighed with relief at the fact that I would not have to watch my brother pull that move any more, even if it was on the corpses of the living dead.

Mike laughed and took great pleasure in using one unfortunate bastard's head as a hacky sack, kicking it back and forth on his ankles for the heck of it. A single firm kick of the head sent it flying into a mass of approaching zombies which tumbled like bowling pins at the attack.

Leonardo cleanly decapitated his zombie and straightened with a sigh at the lack of a challenge that came from fighting off these beasts. I supposed that "zombie ninja" would have been a nicer twist for him.

"That's enough of this," he huffed. "We'll head out of the park, these guys aren't about to get any smarter and stop coming at us."

"Aw!" Mike voiced as he and Raphael stared dully at our brother for his orders.

Each took out their last zombie and I thankfully joined their sides as we fought our way out.

The fact that we were so easily surrounded by zombies in Central Park seemed to concern Leonardo almost as much as it did me. We manage to slip out of the binds in the park but there was still concern for the surrounding neighborhoods, particularly for April's shop.

It was a nearly undisputed consensus for our group to march forward and see if we could protect April's shop. I say nearly undisputed consensus because while I agreed verbally, my mind was urging for me to remain on the steady, safe path home.

Instead we were going through the front door of April's shop.

I suppose those familiar with the stealth of ninja would question just why we were so easily going through the city without hiding, trailing on rooftops, or, in the least, not walking in the middle of the streets.

The reason for our change in strategy is that now normal people lurk in the shadows. With hordes of afflicted creatures roaming the streets freely with little care of being hidden, the general public has been driven into the shadows.

It's hard to do our ninja thing when… everyone in New York was doing the same thing.

April looked up and sighed with relief once she realized that it was just us. She lowered her rifle and securely hid it again behind the counter of the shop's cash register. Her arms folded in that motherly way as we approached.

"Hey, April!" we greeted her.

"You guys know better than to sneak up on me nowadays!" she scolded us. "I just about took off your heads!"

Indeed, she had.

"Sorry, April," Leo began. "We ran into some hordes on our way home and decided to see if everything was going okay in your neighborhood." He placed his hands on his hips. "We know Casey doesn't get off work for some time now and didn't want you to be alone in a wave."

Waves, by the way, are random splurges of Afflicted creatures that come through from time to time. Zombies tend to travel in groups after they start rotting and are slowed by their missing parts and general… well, rotten…ness. Waves are never fun to go through and, of course, due to the city's size, New York goes through them frequently through the Outbreak.

"I think I can handle myself, guys," April laughed before flipping the display case in the counter over, showing off the heavy arsenal that she and Casey had been stocking up on.

"I'd say!" Raph laughed. He thoroughly enjoyed this madness.

"Whoa, April!" Michelangelo squealed. "You're stacking!"

I groaned inwardly. I couldn't believe that April and Casey had bought into this strange, obscured reality as well. Was everyone okay with the onslaught of the innocent undead except for me? And why was I so against it anyway?

To be honest, I'm not even sure. I feel like I'm the only person with any brains left sometimes.

"So, you guys made any Survival Strategies yet?" April asked as she flipped the display cases over once more to their farce sides. "Casey started drafting ours last night."

I was suddenly extraordinarily confused. Survival strategies? What did that even mean?

"A what kind of strategy?" I questioned, trying to be sure that I hadn't simply misheard her.

"You know, Zombie Survival Strategies," Mike grinned at me. "Duh, guys. It's how we're supposed to live through the Zombie Apocalypse. Everyone has one – well, everyone that'll live past this point of the apocalypse that is."

I felt a bit more relieved. It was never my position for strategies; I was just the brain of the outfit. It was hard for me to maintain that image as it was in the apocalypse. I couldn't imagine being in charge of keeping us alive.

That was a duty more often than not given to Leonardo.

Raph looked at our brother expectantly and raised his eye ridge. I groaned inwardly, fully expecting what was to come. Raphael was not one to let an opportunity like this pass him by – especially when he and Leo so adamantly fought over who was the one more suited for the position of leader.

"You made that one yet, Fearless Leader?" he asked snidely.

Leo looked almost as perplexed by the proposal as I did. He frowned and folded his arms over his chest, growing that set look of aggravation he usually forms when he has been bested in anything.

"No," Leo muttered in reply. "We're just going to do what we've done so far. It's kept us alive to this point; I don't see the point in changing."

It would have been a nice cover up, if we all hadn't already suspected that Leo was the second least equipped for the onslaught of the Zombie Apocalypse. The first honor, of course, belonging to me, not that it mattered much to me or anyone else.

"Lame," Mike whined. "Where's the epic battle for a fortress-shelter equipped with stainless steel, windowless first floor and jacked up with more zombie fighting gear than anyone could have ever IMAGINED?"

Leo blinked. "What?"

Raph snorted. "There's no point in debating with him, Mike; he doesn't know what he's doing."

"You guys could borrow our plan, if you want," April offered with a shrug.

I smiled at the offer. April was like our older sister and I always valued her input. It meant an awful lot to me to hear that even though she was obviously affected by the craziness that had invested the uninfected of our Zombie Infested world, she was able to still portray a sense of normality and intelligence to it.

"Thanks, April," I nodded.

"We're just going to barricade Casey's farmhouse," she said with a smile. "It's the perfect location and set up."

"DUDE!" Mike exclaimed. "That's so true!"

"Yeah, but it's so unoriginal," Raph retorted. "Sorry, April, but we gotta think of something classier than that, and since Leo's not up for the job I'll do it."

"No way!" Leo and Mike shouted at once.

"Raph, just because the world's in chaos doesn't mean that you have any more authority than usual," Leo waved his hand as he said. "If anything it just shows that you need to stay **out **of control."

"I have the most Zombie fighting experience anyway!" Mike growled sourly. "If we're getting a new leader it needs to be me!"

I looked around nervously. I wasn't so much worried about the fact that my brothers were, as usual, arguing as I was about the fact that loud noises were, in most cases, the signs of living creatures. Living creatures, as you might imagine, are a favorite meal of the Afflicted.

My brothers didn't care, not even as I pulled out my Bo staff and backed away from the antique store's windows. The putrid faces of the living dead were meshed against the glass, their broken jaws licking the windows hungrily and their rotted teeth hanging loosely by green gums clinking against the solid.

"Uh, guys," I muttered just as the glass crumbled beneath the creatures' combined masses. "Maybe now would be a good time to stop fighting and get to some zombie slaying…"

Leonardo turned around and growled. I could see that determined look in his eyes. He was set on one thing and one thing alone: to prove his abilities in the Zombie Apocalypse. I inwardly sighed at the fact that my last 'ally' was completely lost to the zombie slaying game now.

"Guys! Here!" April yelled from behind as she loaded her rifle.

We looked back just as she kicked over the fake display case, leaving the available guns at the ready for the four of us to take. I was stunned. It was one thing to try to not kill a zombie with a Bo staff… how was I supposed to not kill them with a gun?

"We don't use guns in battle, April," Leo responded harshly to the offer.

I felt a wave of relief. I was glad my brother wasn't completely lost just yet. At least one of my family members was acting like he still had some sense!

We barely had time to react, though, as Raphael stepped forward with Michelangelo and took into hand two of the available rifles. They grinned and aimed for the incoming zombies with absolute malice in their eyes. They were about to have fun.

"This isn't battle, Leo," Raph corrected our brother.

"It's **hunting**," Mike laughed before they joined in unison, absolutely putting the oozing, animated corpses to waste.

Leo and I shared, sparing glances to each other sparingly. We weren't really sure how to respond… Raph and Mike were killing zombies left and right like absolute experts and, as we came to realize, they were just that!

To be honest, Mike had been waiting for this day to come ever since Resident Evil came out the first time and Raph just enjoyed the concept of unremorseful, vengeful, bloody murder with absolutely no negative side effects.

Unlike our prepared brothers, however, Leo was not ready for the concept of untraditional weapons.

I wondered if he would attempt to catch up with Mike and Raph's expertise…

…

A/N: I know, it's seeming OOC right now but that's the joke XD I mean, how would YOU react about something like that? GAWSH

Feedback Appreciated


	3. Resident Leader

This ride may cause motion sickness.

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger**  
Chapter Three: Resident Leader

My sleep had been riddled with nightmares similar to this one for quite some time. It was terrible.

They always started the same, with me. I was always alone, running, panicking in that darkened, unfamiliar alley. I could always hear the sickening sound of snapping bones and dragging body parts as the darkness would envelope me. And once those signature moans would sound, I knew that I was surrounded by the Afflicted.

What a sham.

The walls were closing in and while my heart raced in that small opening of light I was trapped in, they would emerge. From the shadows they crept in their trance like state with hollow eyes and even more hollow stomachs. A snarled look would always be on their faces, jaws gaping, unhinged to prepare for consuming my flesh.

I would always ask the same thing. 'I wonder what turtle tastes like.'

That's when there would be an answer from the darkness that made my gut churn.

'I'll tell you if you want to know!'

So I would turn around, like a dunce, because apparently dreams also impair both judgment and critical thinking, and would be horrified to find - every single time, too - Leo, Raph, and Mike were dragging their half devoured, half rotting carcasses toward me.

I would scream in shock, finding my brothers being Afflicted and what not. I'd beg for them to remember who I was, to be their old selves, to regain their senses. Suddenly killing the other zombies did not seem like such a daunting task and all I could think of was how the hell was I going to explain this to Master Splinter? ... And not be eaten, of course.

'You scream like a girl, Donatello!' Mike would say.

Then they would start eating me and I would wake up with a start.

It's so sad that this is a plausible scenario now. I mean... if you can't trust that zombies won't eat you in your sleep... what **could** you trust?

I was hoping to find some sort of solace as I entered the main area of our home but, alas, found none. Instead I had entered yet another loud, obnoxious debate between the three brothers I felt like I barely knew anymore. It was such a pointless argument, too. Over the video games of all things.

"Raph, it's my turn and my game!" Michelangelo whined as he attempted to lean over the back of the couch and take the controller for himself.

"Screw you, Mike!" Raph snapped as he pulled away from Mikey's grabbing hands. "You died like ten times before you handed the controller to me!"

"Those weren't deaths!" Mike sharply protested. "Those were do-overs!"

"Same difference whether you let the zombie smash your head like a walnut or restarted the game two seconds before it happened," Raph retorted and continued this play.

I groaned. Man, this was getting dumber by the minute. I almost wished to be back where we were the day before, in the streets with the real creatures of the dead, just so they wouldn't have to argue for turns.

But who was I kidding? Even in real life they would be arguing for turns.

"Neither of you have given **me** a chance to play yet!" Leo snapped from a short distance.

My eyes rolled.

This had gotten quite a bit out of hand once Leo was in on this stupidity. I then figured that I must be denying the entire situation, though, because looking back on the weeks of surviving the Afflicted waves Leo had been acting along with this profound nonchalant character. He simply masked himself with the normality of 'before' better than the others.

I was beginning to see through his cloak of sanity too though.

Was I the only person left in the world who didn't want to grind some axes in the backs of those poor, though admittedly dead, sick people?

I thought so. Even Master Splinter had not raised a brow to everyone's responses to the outbreak.

"Look, I'll hand you the game as soon as I'm finished with this level," Raph snapped, though not clarifying which brother he was pacifying. "I have to practice!"

Reluctantly, I came to stare at the television screen for myself, doing my best to ignore the fact that, in remaining sane, I had become quite invisible to the whacked members of my family. I was completely unsurprised to find that they were arguing over yet another zombie killing game.

Oh, how original.

Once upon a time only Michelangelo wasted brain cells on these retarded excuses for entertainment. Leo would scold the use of games and Raph would always complain about how much more invigorating it was to enjoy real life massacre. I really didn't have an opinion for or against them, just a bad case of looking down upon them after having to fix over heated game systems daily.

Mike got into playing Zombie Games when he was about twelve, though they still frightened him. It was from here that he became an expert in zombie warfare. None of us paid attention because then and even as we grew older they were notably fictional. And stupid.

When the Afflicted first came earlier that year, no one on God's Green Earth knew what to do. This, of course, was with the exception of Mike and the hundreds of other WoW and Zombie Game players throughout the world. Our family was stunned to find that our gaming brother was so adept to slaying the undead.

It didn't make all that much sense until we really thought about it.

Raph would ease into killing but was not quite as skilled as Mike, thus the need for video games began. Leo was still skeptical until just recently when it became apparent that he still lacked some of the inhumane tactics that Mike and Raph could do so well.

I was then hardened to their use completely. It was infuriating. They acted like children.

"Leo never wanted to play them before," Mike said with a wiggle of his eye ridges. "Someone must be afraid of losing his leadership position."

"Over video games?" I could not help but voice my skepticism.

"That's ridiculous," Leo snapped.

Raph put the game on pause and looked back at our blue masked brother with an absolute wicked grin. "Is it?" he asked.

"Yes," Leo said firmly with a narrow of his eyes. "It's **very **ridiculous."

I couldn't believe they were having this conversation.

"It's a video game," I said again, though no one even looked my way.

"You know, Leo," Raph said as he leaned back into the armrest, "I think Mike and I are much more suited now for leading than you are."

"Why? Because your brains are as rotten as a zombie's?" Leo snorted.

"Because we know more about what we're doing than you do!" Mike agreed with Raph, biting into the temptation completely.

"Oh, really?" Leo asked over my groan. "Prove it!"

"Fine, we'll make a point system," Mike laughed, enjoying this concept way too much. "Like in the game. And at the end of the day, whoever has the most points will be leader the next day."

"Yeah, and you can join, too, Don," Raph said, more as a joke than anything else. They all knew I couldn't kill any of the Afflicted.

I was simply surprised they realized I was there.

"This could make everyone reckless," Leo argued.

"Scared?" Raph smirked.

Leo's eyes narrowed and he tightened his fists. He couldn't say no to a direct challenge from Raph. "Fine."

"Dear God," I moaned.

...

A/N: And yes, OOCness is the point of this thing, thank you XD I say that every chapter, I know, but still...

Feedback Appreciated.


	4. Point System

I have been watching too many Christmas specials this week. I mean, obviously it's a good thing since it's Christmas time and what not, but still, maybe I've been influenced by too much Good Will and Peace On Earth. It was hard to get into the mood to write this. So I reread my favorite chapters of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. That seemed to cure my ales.

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger**  
Chapter Four: Point System

I remembered times when we were little kids and I would be left behind in vicious games such as tag or hide-and-go-seek. I was always terrible at them because I would worry that in doing well I would be upsetting one of my brothers. In reality I was simply making myself miserable because I could never truly partake in their foolishness.

This is not to say my brothers were completely heartless and unobservant to my feelings. I think I give them too little credit.

One of them, never one more than the others, would always find me after a few minutes of being left behind and forcefully drag me back into playtime. I never took it as they needed me in the game, and they didn't, but they wanted me involved because I was still their brother and they believed I needed to have just as much fun as any of them.

As we grew older, I understood that at that age, though I never admitted it, they were right. I did enjoy those games of childhood innocence and regretted not involving myself more in them. I regretted it because as my interests truly did grow away from theirs I could not escape their instinctual need to drag me into their trivial pursuits.

A few days after the Zombie Games had begun, it was hard to tell what permanent effect it would have on our Ninja Team. While my three brothers did absolutely everything in their powers to assure that they slaughtered as many of the Afflicted as possible to get points, who would win at the end of the day was a tossup.

By the fourth day Leonardo had still not been proclaimed leader by the Zombie Games standard and it pissed him off more than anything else our brothers had ever done to him. This simply encouraged Michelangelo and Raphael to continue playing.

What was more fun than proving to Leo he wasn't perfect?

I could've named a few things but, as usual, no one asked me.

No, instead I was stuck doing the usual with our pointless games: keeping score. No one was capable of doing math on their own so poor genius Donny was caught with the lovely duty of keeping track of score for everyone.

Because, you know, that's what I want to do on a Saturday afternoon: follow my idiot brothers around so they can perform a duty I don't agree with and keep **score** for them.

That fourth day, though, Leo had gone nuts. He wanted to win so bad that his mood was radiating off of him like ooze. I had to admit that even I was a bit frightened by him at that time. He was going to take off either the heads of one of the Afflicted or someone who tried to stop him, I was sure.

Fortunately, though, by three the warlike nature my brothers possessed began to fade away and I ended up winning my argument in us heading home. This, however, came with the very question that I had been dreading.

"So, who's ahead?" Leo voiced as he, Raph, and Mike gathered around me.

Inwardly I groaned. I had been expecting as much of a response when I brought up the concept of calling it a day. Honestly, what did Zombie Apocalypse Leader do, anyway? So far it had been the same thing every day: go to the surface and see how many Afflicted we can put out of their miseries for the hell of it.

They wouldn't believe my reply anyway.

"You're all three tied."

"What?" Mike questioned as his face screwed up, not believing a word I said, just like I had expected him not to. It didn't help that Leo and Raph were producing the same expressions and questioning.

"I'm being serious," I assured them. "You all three have one hundred fifty."

"But I got three in the head," Raph growled. "That's ten points each."

See, there were different points for how someone dealt with an Afflicted. Different methods led to different rewarding of points. While using out signature weapons was effective it was also simple, automatic and received only five points each. Cleanly decapitating or direct impact to the head was the second most effective means my brothers had found to kill zombies. This received ten points.

"I realize that," I said. "That's thirty of your one fifty, Raph."

"Didn't you see where I used that clothesline in the alley?" Mike

While using our own weapons was the lowest reward of points possible, the usage of objects we gathered from the area we were fighting led to greater point reward, twenty points. This was simply for the fact that it was effectively thinking on our feet.

I wondered why we never took fighting the Foot ninja so seriously as compared to the points for killing Afflicted.

"Yes," I said sourly, sick of this scrutinizing. If there was one thing I could do it was math.

Finally, Leonardo stepped forward and, for a moment, appeared to be in the same complacent, controlled character of the brother I used to know. It almost seemed as though he had stepped out of the insanity of the Zombie Apocalypse to protect me from my point deranged brothers.

"Guys, Don knows what he's talking about," Leo scolded. "Attacking him isn't going to change your point numbers, alright? Back off some."

I felt so relieved! …Until he turned around with a frown on his lips.

"You sure I only have one-hundred fifty? I nailed three Afflicted cops. That's like twenty-five each, isn't it?"

I growled and turned around, leaving the sight of my brothers in utter disgust. They were being so idiotic. The question of why I was even involved kept reoccurring in my brain and that memory of us being so young and everyone trying to get me involved kept following the question.

Did they honestly believe that this was helping me feel more included with them? It wasn't. I t was just annoying me and I was sick of it.

I turned the corner to start back toward the storm drain we used to get to the surface earlier when something grabbed my shoulders and twirled me around. I almost began to snap at one of my brothers for continuing to pester me when, instead of looking into one of my brothers' eyes, I was glancing into the puss filled rotten sockets of an Afflicted.

He moaned and his gapping jaw unhinged as he looked like he was about to swallow me whole.

"GUYS!" I cried out but I was frozen.

I could vaguely recall that a few shuriken were handily residing in my belt but for some reason it did not compute with a way to get out of the monster's clutches. Not that it mattered much anyway. I was saved.

Just as the vicious monster leaned forward to bite into my throat, there was an ungodly crack and thick, green fungus that had been eating upon the Afflicted's dormant brain spewed onto my face like that time that Raph sat on Mike's jelly filled donut.

I blinked and looked dully at the creature as it numbly fell to the ground, no longer threatening anyone and, most of all, me. Then I looked to my savior.

Mike grinned as he wiped his nunchucks off on the Afflicted's clothes. He was enjoying his kill when Raph and Leo both grabbed my shoulders and began to look me over, inspecting me for blemishes or bites.

"Christ, Don!" Raph gasped as he looked around. He honestly seemed panicked.

"Don't leave the group, that's one of the rules, remember?" Leo asked as forcefully turned my face toward him. He was angry – concerned, but angry at me.

I felt so relieved, though. They were genuinely concerned for me. Perhaps the brothers I had grown up with were still somewhere within these Zombie Slaying machines that had been pestering me for so long.

"Sorry, didn't see it," I muttered as I looked around, my gaze settling upon some knocked over trashcans where the Afflicted had no doubt been feasting for some thrown out meat. "It must have been behind those cans when I walked out… I didn't see it."

"Hey, guys!" Mike called as he stood up, a wicked grin on his face. "Doesn't that mean I get fifty points?"

My cheeks suddenly felt very hot and I clenched my muscles.

Leo and Raph looked at each other and then to me, not sure if they were alright to laugh at me after my near death experience. That or, like me, they didn't know how to respond toward the utter insult Mike had just given me.

You see, fifty points is the highest of rewards because it's always the pinnacle point of any scary zombie movie or game.

Fifty points goes to someone who saves a damsel in distress.

Mike was in the lead…

…

A/N: I determined this week that there is absolutely no excuse for this fanfic. Really, I'm serious. There's NONE. Thanks for reading.

Feedback Appreciated.


	5. Zombie Slayer

I find the entire experience of this fanfic more enjoyable than the majority of you shall every know. Why? BECAUSE IT'S ZOMBIES!!!

Thanks to Effar! The Beta reader and fellow Zombie Killer! And to you reviewers! Means a lot!

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger**  
Chapter Five: Zombie Slayer

The fact that Michelangelo was in the lead seemed to drive my other brothers undeniably insane! There was no other way to describe the fearsome, determined expressions on their stark mad faces. If they didn't kill more of the Afflicted soon they were going to kill Mike, let him come back as a zombie, then do the honors of killing him again – and get points for it, of course.

But no, we couldn't go home after my close encounter with death. Wouldn't that have just been all too reasonable? I mean, good God, why would I want to go home of all things after a living corpse attempted to penetrate my arteries?

Well, as much as I wanted to go home and absolutely despised this entire score keeping business, I hated being a burden on anyone and so was left standing as the two of them unwisely clattered garbage can lids together and banged on tin signs, all as an allure to bring out some more of the Afflicted.

Bored, I walked over to the trash bin. Recalling the incident which had happened only a short time beforehand, I braced myself.

Using my staff, I nudged the sides of the bin. Was there something in it? Something under it? Something behind it? Beside it?

I wasn't for sure, but you can guarantee I was going to find out before I attempted to sit on the damn thing! Fortunately, I had just that right amount of luck to let me enjoy the seat. There were no Afflicted coming out and scaring me.

An arm wrapped around my shoulders and I tensed up and yelped before jumpily leaping to my feet. I felt my cheeks become flamed yet again when I realized it was just Mike. He found my reaction, of course, hysterical.

"Geeze, Don," he chuckled. "Give your balls a chance to run and catch up with you before you head home."

"I wish I **was** home," I uttered before folding my arms over my chest and shaking my head. He was on my nerves bad tonight. I didn't ever really do anything when I got mad at someone, not to the degree that the others did, so I never really had a point for getting hot and bothered over something.

That night, though, nothing could describe the hurt and anger I felt toward my little brother. He knew it, too.

"Look, I'm sorry, Don," he said truthfully before leaping off the trash bin to join me. "I didn't mean to embarrass you back there. And, really, I'd rather go home right now, too."

I smiled. It was small and insignificant but it was an apology and, yes, it made me feel much better.

"Look, to be honest, Don," Mike sighed, "I'm ready to head home, too."

Laughing, I studied my brother knowingly. "Not wanting to lose your lead in the game I guess?" I asked with a snort at his predictability.

"Well, yeah," he admitted, blushing for himself for once. "But I'm also bored! I mean, as funny as it is to see Raph and Leo mad and going around, beating trashcan lids and screaming at nothing was fun the first few minutes, it does nothing for me now. It's just sad. I wish a horde would come through and we could take out all of them."

"More like a flock."

He gave me a strange look before puffing out his bottom lip and tipping his head to the side. "Whatchoo talkin' 'bout, Don?"

Sighing, I could already tell this was going to be beating a dead horse but, hey, under current circumstances that was considered logical and even necessary. "I said it's more like a flock than it is a horde. A horde seems to portray the picture of a disshelved but planned and organized group, like of warriors. I think the Afflicted are a sorry, misfortunate lot that are sheep to slaughter, following anyone who can seemingly herd them—"

"And then eat them later, Don," Mike laughed. "Dude, they're already dead. Killing them is more like… just returning them to the natural order of stuff."

"Forget it," I grouched before looking toward Raph and Leo who were becoming confused and angered by the lack of response they received from trying to attract the undead. "I was just trying to make a point that everyone else in this world seems to try and forget."

"Geeze!" Mike chuckled as soon as my last sentence was spoken. "What's been eating you?"

"I'm just sick of refereeing, Mike!" I exclaimed before rubbing my face. "I mean, sheesh, all you guys seem to think about is your stupid ga—"

"Guys, come on!" Leo snapped from the head of the alley as he and Raph made their ways out. "Something's attracting all the zombies in the other direction and we should try to go figure out what it is."

"Yeah, so I can go kick some half-dead ass!" Raphael exclaimed.

At the thought of having more zombies, Mike leaped up with joy, ready to maim any of the undead alive. He spun his chucks and looked at me expectantly, like I was supposed to follow him around like a little puppy.

I moaned and did just that, following my brothers into the streets and toward the area of gathering for the countless zombies and Afflicted of the area. My brothers tensed and grew anxious auras, ready to bust some decaying flesh open apparently.

On the other hand, I didn't find this situation heartwarming. Of course I didn't! We're talking about slaughtering mindless sheep-people! We're talking here about **sheeple!**

"Hey, getta load of that!" Raph exclaimed as he pointed ahead, drawing all of our attentions to the alley nearby.

Ahead of us swarmed like moths to flame a horde of the Afflicted. Dumbly they lined up, clawing and scraping over one another to get to the innermost lining of the alley. They licked every surface with their unhinged jaws, their putrid, decaying tongues rubbing against the leaking crevices.

I suddenly felt ready to vomit and, for once, my brothers seemed to almost want to join me.

"Okay, what the hell?" Mike questioned as he looked over the scene, holding his stomach as if this would help the contents stay where they belonged. "Are they trying to eat the walls?"

I stared at the scene harder and harder and still could not make heads or tails of it. Sure, the sheeple weren't the brightest crayons in the box but they followed certain inevitable patterns. They came back to life, they decayed, they ate meat, and they rotted to death. They never really faltered from this pattern.

So what was the deal?

"Doesn't matter!" Raph suddenly declared in what could only be described as an elated voice. He spun his sai before leaping forward, rushed into attack mode. "I'll take care of all of these! No problem!"

As he began his killing spree, I sighed and counted. He was being slow this time around, using his weapons and not being inventive so I tallied his score with little enthusiasm.

Mike and Leo slowly allowed the facts to sink in and realized Raph had a jumpstart. They growled simultaneously before pulling out their weapons and running ahead to try to catch up with his score, each working to secure his own name as Leader of the Zombie Apocalypse before midnight.

I sighed and slowly neared the area to get a better point of view. I was so tired of this already. The petty fight was so useless, so… droll. I didn't want it to go on any further.

Slowly my mind wound up looking collectively at the alley itself. The situation still did not feel right to me, I mean, something had to have caused this strange phenomenon and I had an inkling that it wasn't the Afflicted themselves. No, it was something different.

But what?

I glanced about, hoping to find something worthwhile, something to stick out, when my eyes came across the walls again and it truly hit me that they were **oozing** with something. To say the least this was unnatural and to say the most it could only mean one thing when compounded with the spoiled smell of the alley.

These creatures had been **baited** by someone.

Chills went through my body and I knew that while the Afflicted were supposedly the enemies, they couldn't have been half as dangerous as someone deranged enough to want to attract them!

Swallowing, I looked back to my combating brothers and felt my heart pounding. Our appearance to the shell shocked, surviving population of the city must have been worthy of being killed alongside the Afflicted sheeple and I was not looking forward to dodging an array of weapons designed with the specific purpose of Zombie Hunting.

"GUYS!" I yelled out. "We have to get out of here before hunters come by!" This, of course, was ignored or unheard by my family as they continued their slaying, not taking notice that I wasn't keeping score. "I said—"

Before I could finish there was a roar of an engine and my only thought was that we were so dead. I mean, the hunters had cars? Helicopters? Mopeds? Anything that could help them track us down like dogs and kill us?

Of course they did, why wouldn't they? This surreality was designed with the specific purpose of killing us off, wasn't it? If the Afflicted didn't get us the survivors would.

We turned and looked around and suddenly relief swept over me and my brothers laughed and cheered at the sight for sore eyes. It was none other than the hokey masked goon of a knucklehead we liked to call Arnold Casey Jones.

Of course it was Casey. Who else would want to bait the Afflicted for the sake of killing something?

"GOONGALA!" he cried as he revved his bike, waiting for the monsters to come before rushing forward on the closest thing he would ever have to a child (we could only hope). Running over some sheeple, knocking some other sheeple's heads off with his club… For Casey I suppose this was a good time?

"Thataboy, Case!" Raph laughed. "Leave some for me, knucklehead!"

"Sorry, man, you gotta leave that to the people with permission," Casey announced as he parked his love and unsheathed a golf club form his duffle bag. "Afraid to say that it's illegal for a buncha punks like you to be slayin' this late at night."

We all looked to each other.

"What do you mean, Casey?" Leo asked as the vigilante took out the remaining three Afflicted in the alley.

"I mean I got legitimate reason to be out here 'til the crack o' dawn killing things," he expressed proudly before nodding over to his duffle bag which Raph immediately began to rummage through. "From the courthouse – just got mine today – Arnold Casey Jones is officially a Zombie Slayer!"

We stared.

"The state is issuing permits for killing these Afflicted creatures?" I asked skeptically. "Surely they're not trying to make this a way to get money for the deficit."

"Sure looks like it, Donny," Raphael countered as he pulled out the document Casey had been referring to. "Looks like bonehead here was telling the truth. He's an official Zombie Slayer of the state."

Michelangelo exploded with laughter. "Oh, that's too funny. They're paying you to be a vigilante?"

"Not really," Casey admitted with a shrug. "It's like deer hunting. We pay for the permit and then they look the other way while we go apeshit on the zombies."

I sighed. "Of course," was all I uttered before waiting for Casey to explain whatever else was obviously on his mind. Casey had that sort of expressive tick on his face that made it quite apparent that he was thinking of something.

"I do think you guys should be careful, though," he said. "They say that if someone gets bit that they turn into one of these things, too. Pretty hefty stuff 'n all that. Wouldn't want to suffer in the afterlife like that if you ask me."

My brothers and I looked at each other. We had assumed as much just from our knowledge of Zombie Cliché but there was another type of cliché Casey just did unknowingly that could be much more dangerous than zombie mayhem.

Scary movies and zombie thrillers alike always start getting bad for the heroes when someone gives them little words of advice.

"Someone's going to turn into a zombie," Mike said lowly.

"I know," Leo muttered as they all seemed to finally sober up and act like the concerned brothers I once knew.

I just wish that it had been under better circumstances.

They all looked at me, the turtle who had most recently been attacked.

…

A/N: Okay, four updates in a row have had to do with Don and it's driving me nuts. I write multiple stories at once to avoid feeling like I'm writing the same thing over and over again. GRR

Please Review


	6. Deductions

So, as usual, I have a poll on my profile page asking what everyone's favorite of my In Progress stories is and I'm actually surprised by the current outcome. People like Hunger? For real? You guys actually read this? Well, I'm glad to hear this!

As always, thanks to the lovely and excellent Beta reader Effar!

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger**  
Chapter Six: Deductions

The three of them were just staring at me like eventually there would be holes through my body from their direct looks. Was I supposed to start defending myself against their silent accusations? Was I supposed to say anything at all?

I didn't really know what to do, I mean, for as many crappy movies as I watch I had never actually been in a situation which called for me to say, "My dear brother turtles, I assure you that even in the light of being attacked by the corpse of a dead man, I myself am still quite alive and therefore should not be studied as one would study a zombie."

That actually sounded pretty logical at the time, though, and I considered saying it had I not been too shocked by the fact that my nightmares might have actually come true in reverse!

See, I had always imagined that my end would come at the hands of my brothers after their useless charades got them all zombified and corpsey. It had never occurred to me that perhaps my three otherwise intelligent brothers might slaughter me with complete consciousness in the event that **I **was Afflicted.

The idea became more and more horrifying to me as I realized that it, of my theories of unconquerable doom, actually made the most sense.

Meanwhile, at that time, Casey was growing quite a bit confused and looked from my dumbfounded brothers to a more dumbfounded me without coming even close to putting the pieces together. He just scratched his head.

"Somethin' wrong with Donny?"

I sure hoped not.

Leo frowned and folded his arms over his chest as he looked over me again. "No," he answered lowly. "There's nothing wrong with him right now." The confidence my brothers had in me was overwhelming, as you could probably tell.

At least Mikey appeared more concerned at the moment as he came and placed a hand over my forehead. "You feeling okay, Donny? Tell us please."

Alright, just for clarification, if my brothers who were killing zombies without cause or reason left and right had asked me, someone who was vulnerable to becoming Afflicted myself, if I was feeling alright and I hadn't been I would **not** be telling them so.

Fortunately in this situation, however, I was perfectly fine other than the fact that my brothers seemed to think I was about to become an animated corpse and hadn't really taken their reactions any further than the surface level.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said quickly, my eyes shooting around to them.

Casey was looking ever more confused and, considering how merciless he had been with the earlier herd of sheeple, I was glad he was so damn slow at catching on to things. He would've probably done the "honor" of taking me out of my misery before anyone had the chance to rationally think about the current situation.

"Uh, there something going on here?" Casey questioned. "You guys act like someone's just died."

Oh, what a wonderful metaphor. It was then that I realized I was becoming physically sick with this situation.

"No big deal, Casey," Raph spoke up. "We were just headin' home. Real tired."

Casey was not by any means a complete dunce, though a bit slow on the uptake. He knew something was wrong to say the least and therefore cleared a way for us to get into the alley and the manhole without much more than his good-byes. I suddenly felt like I was about to walk the death row mile.

This was not going to be fun in the least.

The minute I lowered myself into the sewer water I found myself accosted by my brothers as they inspected every inch of my body with absolute terror stricken on their faces. Perhaps they were frightened on more than the superficial level after all.

As touching as their fear might have been, the fact that it was there because they were worried about having to actually kill me was not all that charming. I began shaking in my knees, waiting for one of them to find a scratch or bite.

"Did he break the skin anywhere when he attacked you?" Leo asked as he paused and stared at me front on, the others giving up their own searches and doing the same.

I shook my head. "No," I said simply. "Not to my knowledge."

"Are you feeling sick?" Mike asked.

"No," I stated with less confidence. Yes, I was sick but this was due to nerves which was due to them which was being made worse by the fact that they were questioning me and this questionnaire could lead to a death sentence for me.

There was a moment where they all three stared at me, not sure of what to do before laughing. They had been so worked up and they only questioned now why they ever doubted my credibility. This was enough of a relief that I joined them.

"I'm glad you're not Afflicted, Don," Leo sighed with relief. "You're the only thing keeping everybody's heads straight lately."

I felt a smile emerge on my own face. It was true! I knew I had been the only sane one for a while but the fact that the others acknowledged it somewhat was very touching for me. To say the least, I didn't expect them to even take notice of my efforts.

"Don't scare us like that again," Raph snapped with a sudden, unexpected movement which locked my head under his arms as he assaulted my crown with a noogie. "You had us all freakin' out!"

"Yeah, wear armor or something if you're going to be Zombie Bait, Dude," Mike warned.

"It's not like I was trying out for the position," I reminded them all rather sourly as Raph released me.

"Let's just go home for now, guys," Leo sighed as he headed our trail through the sewer depths.

I smirked some as I knew that he was grateful for my safety, too, and headed after my brothers toward our sewer den. We were all safe for now: from Afflicted, Casey, or each other. Not one of us seemed to have to worry about death coming knocking tonight.

Still, I wondered and my wondering led me to immense worry. What would my brothers have done had I been actually Afflicted?

I knew, at least, that they still cared for me and, when push came to shove, their temporary insanity as Zombie survivalists did not overcome the instinctual care and love they shared for me. But this scenario had a happy ending and I knew that it had been a lucky, very unlikely one.

What could have possibly happened had I not been so graced as to not be Afflicted?

"Guys, just wondering," I spoke up as I took the rear of the traveling group, "what **would** you have done if I had been Afflicted?"

No one really stopped, I think that they were avoiding the very questions in their own minds. I had to know, though. In a way it was a way of forming my own Zombie Survival Plan. If I was bitten, I didn't want my life to end any sooner than it was going to in any case.

"Taken you out," Raph stated lowly. "You'd probably come straight after us. Wouldn't leave us any other choice."

I suddenly felt like I was about to vomit. My brother just told me that he would have killed me before I ever had the chance of becoming Afflicted. Good lord, didn't they even stop to think that as mutants perhaps we weren't affected the same way that humans were by the virus? My head was spinning over the revelation of my brothers' most likely actions.

"Raph," Leo scolded before shaking his head. He looked back at me somewhat and frowned. "We'd find a way to cure you, Don. We wouldn't let you stay one of those rotting corpses for long. Maybe we'd even get LeatherHead to help us out if push came to shove. Point is, we'd never let you get hurt."

To this I smiled somewhat. I could always rely on Leo to make me feel a little better in the situation, even if he was still a Zombie Killing slightly more reckless version of the brother I could always go to.

"But guys, the closest thing to a cure would be the immunity to it, like a vaccine," Mike corrected as joined the conversation. "And no zombie movie I've watched has had an ending where they can help the zombies."

Staring at Mike, I wondered if in a past life I had accidentally wronged my little brother. I knew for a fact that, no matter what, he seemed capable of making me feel worse in this apocalyptic scenario.

"We'd probably have to kill Don to keep him from a terrible existence!" Mike expressed, only somewhat remorsefully.

Suddenly, the sickness returned in a inescapable wave and I found myself bending over, leaning against the sewer walls as I vomited. The thought of a corpse like, flesh bucket zombie me being beheaded by my family without remorse kept reoccurring like it would never leave me.

I couldn't see them being apologetic about the slaying or even remorseful to have lost a brother. I admit that this is an extreme version, but when your little brother tells you he'd kill you for your own good it's a little bit of a shock.

But, as usual, I underestimated my brothers as I suddenly found them patting my back and helping me up with saddened, remorseful faces. This was just at the fact that they were being assholes, too, so the concept of them being remorseful in the event that they killed me was fortunately becoming more and more likely.

"We're just goofing around, Don," Mike said gently.

"We don't know what we'd do in that situation," Leo added in a hushed, assuring tone.

"I can tell you one thing," Raph uttered as he stood back from checking on me. "We need to figure out something to do because while Don is okay now, we can't let emotions interfere in the future." He looked at me to make sure I was no longer light headed before placing his hands on his hips for an announcement. "I say that we make deductions in the Game if someone won't kill an attacking zombie – fifty points. That goes double for if it's attacking any of us direction and the player freezes up."

I grunted as I felt all the sincerity leave the area. I felt myself become surprisingly defensive again as I stared at Raph, glaring at his insensitivity to the fact that, for a few minutes, I thought I was going to be that attacking Afflicted.

"And it's an automatic win if someone kills a zombie we know," he added.

Like morons, the others nodded in agreement and I had had enough of this shit. I was so tired of them, of everything, and I raced down the sewer, stomping my feet through the water as they all stared at me cluelessly.

"What's the matter, Don?" Mike called.

"I'm going home!" I growled before continuing on without acknowledging anything else they said.

…

A/N: …

Please Review!


	7. The Bar Brawl

Thank you to Effar, the GREAT, for beta reading!

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger**  
Chapter Seven: The Bar Brawl

If you believe that I hate my brothers for their charades or, likewise, they hate me for my lack of them then you're wrong. You probably also don't know much about the dynamics of having brothers either. I should have expected for this apocalyptic zombie infestation to be taken as a competition and I should have even sooner expected to be somewhat rejected for not participating in it. No actual harm is meant one way or the other, though.

Still…

…Bastards.

I was not about to allow my injury to fade away by the next day. I refused to go on the evening hunt and while this shamed my brothers for their obvious wrong, they allowed me to fester with anger alone in the Lair while they had their badgering fun.

To be honest, the time spent in blissful brooding did not help my anger subside all that much.

All I could think was that one day I would be bit! And then they **would **be sorry for being the upstart jerks they were with me. Of course, my common sense usually came in about that point and I realized that there wasn't exactly a winning situation in there for me with that one either.

I spent most of the time I was home alone—with Splinter in his study, meditating on what the higher path would be in handling these morbid menaces—staring at the game consoles hooked to the main monitors of the television.

There I would think to myself that, sure, Silent Hill, Left 4 Dead, or some sort of Resident Evil would be in there.

It was then that, for the first time since the Afflicted first came to New York, that I considered that just possibly I should play with the games. Just maybe I should hone in that lack of appreciation for human life and try to be like my brothers.

Eventually I would turn away and find something else to obsess over until my brothers returned to the Lair. I said my greetings and turned particularly sharp on my hills once I spoke to Raph before heading away to my room, ready to turn in for the night.

No, I didn't hate my brothers but I had reason to be mad. I had the best reason to be mad at Raph because he was the one that begun this slow roller coaster ride of insanity for me.

He knew it, too.

He wasted no time in following to my room to my great displeasure. I even tried to shut the door directly behind me to keep him from coming any further after me. No luck, though, as he stopped it with his hand and followed me anyway.

Rude as always…

"I'm busy," I said in a tone that was admittedly more apologetic than I felt. Did I really lack even the capacity to be short with my brothers? I felt like I was losing all the needed rage and anger I had as a person.

"No, yar not," he said in that tone that told me not to refute his statement at all costs. "That's why you've gotta come out with me tonight."

I stared at him for a moment before groaning. There was nothing that could make me forgive Raph faster than the threat of one of his horrific apologies. My brother often acts without thinking and every time he has ever done so he has attempted to make amends through his own methods.

Raphael's methods and my interests do not exactly coincide.

"I'm fine, Raph," I attempted my best to assure him. "You don't have to take me anywhere."

"Huh, good thing I wasn't askin' then," he responded with a shrug before grabbing my wrist and tugging me out the door. "I already had this arranged to make up for bein' an asshole yesterday so I'm glad you came along."

I grunted an "okay" against my will as I was haplessly pulled along like a ragdoll toward the exit of the Lair.

My eyes narrowed as I saw Leo and Mike knowingly grinning from their favorite comfy spots in the Lair. They were all in on this and I would not soon forget it. I hated outings and I hated outings with Raph. The only thing I hated worse than outings with Raph were outings with Raph and Casey double teaming me.

Imagine my great surprise when we emerged from the sewers to find none other than Casey Jones waiting on us.

"Oh, Casey," I muttered as I instinctively looked about the alley for any of the Afflicted. I was not surprised to find several puss spewing corpses bludgeoned to a second death lying about. "I'm so surprised to see you here."

"Huh, I woulda figured ya knew how Raph 'n I operate by now, Donny!" Casey declared as he pointed toward the road. "Easiest path is wide open tonight, boys. We'll make it to Marlo's before closing."

I moaned at the mention of the two's favorite haunt. I knew that this was what Raph was going to use as an apology. I knew his idea of an apology was to show off, again, how I'm a cheap drunk and then have Casey help drag me home.

"Don't get that face, Don," Raph snapped. "It's an honor to be at Marlo's! Best blind bartender in the world." I rolled my eyes at the mention of my brother's hero while he turned to Casey. "Speaking of which, how is Marlo?"

"Eh, Afflicted," Casey shrugged.

"Damn, really?"

"Yeah, 'fraid so," Casey sighed with a shrug of his arms. "Apparently a guy came in, Marlo thought he was a customer, started to hand him a drink when the asshole bit his arm off or something. They say it was awful. A few guys watchin' said they almost didn't finish their drinks."

"Ah," Raph huffed with a shake of his head. "He any dangerous?"

"Nah," Casey shrugged. "He's still at the bar, running into the same wall over 'n over again."

"What a way to go," Raph sighed before he and Casey began walking toward the road, leaving me behind.

For a moment I got really excited. Perhaps their useless banter had actually saved me from the embarrassing excursion of barhopping. I had full intentions of using this lapse of attention to my advantage and heading straight to the Lair when Raph turned and motioned for me to follow.

"Hurry up, Buttercup, or you'll get attacked by another garbage surfer," he snorted before he and Casey began chattering again like five year olds.

I groaned and followed sluggishly.

The trip there was, fortunately for me, rather uneventful as far as Afflicted and related hordes were concerned. Most unfortunately, however, Marlo's was indeed still standing and the three of us entered without any trouble.

It was still early in the evening so most men and women who would be coming to the bars to drink away their memories of the inevitable apocalypse would not yet be out. Likewise, not having many people around the bars would lead to less interest from the Afflicted.

This, of course, was with the exception of poor Former Mr. Marlo.

He was a stubby man in life and in death his former fat hat been devoured by decay and left sacks of dripping, rubber like skin hanging off of him. He had a strange blue hue to his skin with the exception of his forehead which had split from the repetitive action of running into the wall.

The simple sight boggled me for some reason as I tried to make reason for the poor, armless creature when I heard the rummaging through glass behind me.

I groaned.

"You're going through the property of a dead man?" I asked skeptically as I looked around to them.

Raphael was on the counter, grabbing the top shelf booze and handing it down to Casey who stood, holding the good beer in one arm while using his free hand to sift through the broken glass on the counters. At least they could take comfort in the fact that they were not the first amoral pair to reach the unattended bar.

"That's not a good tone, Donny!" Raph declared before leaping down from the counter. "I'm doing you a favor."

"Regular seats, gentleman?" Casey questioned as he motioned to the corner slots, his and Raph's favorite seats.

I muttered before coming over and complying by sitting at Raph's other side. They handed me a bottle. We all uncapped our bottles and I stared as they took their first drinks. I felt the certainty of a trap yet again and queasiness grew in my stomach at the concept.

Seeing my uneasiness, Raph put down his own bottle and rubbed his eyes. "Uh, Case," he muttered, "would ya mind seein' if any recorders or summtin' can start playing?"

"Yeah! No problem, Raph," Casey responded before getting up and heading toward the other side of the blind zombie.

As Casey began searching uselessly for some way to listen to music, Raph and I just sat at the bar kind of quietly, ignoring him and the sound of Marlo's head bursting on impact like fine China. I watched Raph as he looked downward, leaning against the bar counter. I took the time to shove away the beer bottle handed to me.

"I was bringin' you here to try to apologize to ya," he explained lowly. "For yesterday…"

"I figured," I admitted before shrugging. "Don't worry about it. I'll forgive you so long as you promise to never try to "apologize" to me again. You know I hate this kind of stuff, especially with you and Casey. We'll end up in a brawl before the end of the night."

He snorted. "We will not."

"Yes, we will," I sighed. "Look, it doesn't matter. I'm over it, okay? I understand why you guys were talking about that kind of stuff anyway. Some day when we do run into someone we know who's Afflicted we should be able to react."

"But brothers are held to a different standard," he finalized. Raph looked to me somberly. "Look, Don, I just don't know what we would've done if you had been hurt. We want to be tough, be able to deal with that situation if it ever comes but the truth is you scared the shit out of us yesterday. I just didn't want to freeze up like that again, we had to have a plan."

I nodded in acknowledgement before rubbing my eyes. "Yeah, I understand. It's not a big deal."

"Yeah it is."

The sound of glass breaking brought us to glance in Casey's direction, seeing that he was breaking open a juke box. While this commonly would not make sense to others watching, we turned around and ignored for the simple fact that it was **Casey**. We didn't need a reason to doubt his sanity.

"But you gotta tell me, Don," Raph picked the conversation back up. "You gotta tell me why you won't help us fight the Afflicted."

I looked at him. "What do you mean?"

"You don't think it's strange at all that when push came to shove against our enemies, you could kill someone who endangered you or others but in the same situation with these zombies you won't lift a finger?" he asked critically.

I sighed and shrugged. "I don't know, Raph. I think that my conscious just won't allow it. I can't kill people who are the actual victims in the situation. It doesn't feel right."

His eyes dulled at me and he shook his head. "Don, I love ya, but that's one of the dumbest things I think I've ever heard. They're already dead."

"I don't want to lose my innocence, Raph," I finally proclaimed before sighing. "It's like after the World Wars, everyone lost a bit of their humanity because they realized what evil they all could do to one another. I don't want the same to happen to me, for me to some day long for when I valued life more."

Again, he stared at me dully. "They're already dead."

Shaking my head, I rubbed my temples. "Well, I'm glad you can feel that way, Raph."

It did not take long for the inevitable, though, as Casey, aggravated with the incompletion of his task, picked up a plate and chucked it toward the wall. The plate spun through the air like a ninja star, drawing our attentions once again from our conversation as it sliced and stuck into the back of Afflicted Marlo.

The blind zombie released a strange, inhuman call that reminded me of the squawking of a chicken before turning about, his arms flailing uselessly in spasms now that his spine was supposedly cut. Too bad it was too late in his Zombification to slow him down.

Then, however, the less than intelligent creature was aware of our presences and was slowly limping his way toward us.

I smirked and looked to Raph. "Have fun."

He grinned at me before throwing himself off the seat and barreling toward the zombie. There was so much joy bounding off of my brother now that he had my blessing I could have sworn that I could see it leaping from his shoulders.

Raph wasted no time in disarming the creature again through a slash into its remaining arm. The monster paused its struggling stride as the appendage dropped to the floor in a cascading waterfall of yellow-green, puke smelling fluids.

This just made my brother grin as I felt my head get lighter.

"Save some for me, Raph!" Casey exclaimed before running across the room. I saw the swing of his hockey stick and almost threw up as the head of the former barkeeper snapped with a deafening crack, flinging off the neck like a golf ball off the tee.

"Case! Now I don't get the hundred points for killin' it!" Raphael snapped angrily.

I looked toward him to see his expression but found everything was a distinct blur. I waved my hands to alert the others of my situation when my voice failed but everything went black very quick.

The last thing I felt was my body hit the hardwood floors as I passed out.

…

A/N: …

Please Review!


	8. What's New, Pussy Cat?

Yeah, I know. I'm so cruel to Don lately!

Effar is the best Beta ever. You should all know it by now. I shall reinforce it for you if you don't.

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed) **

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger **  
Chapter Eight: What's New, Pussy Cat?

The flashing light of the VCR was sadly the first thing I saw by the time my head stopped throbbing and my vision cleared.

It started out as a small, iridescent glow at first before cultivating into a string of numbers. Once my ears quit buzzing I could make out these numbers to be Nine, Two, Nine. Once my head stopped spinning I realized that it was nearly nine thirty of the next day.

Glorious.

So I woke up only to discover that in yet another display of brilliant weakness in my stomach, I had passed out. Surely, after everything I had seen in all of my years as both a ninja and mutant, the simple display of zombie destruction had not caused me to faint.

That would be a cruel injustice.

It would also happen to have been my luck.

I was disgusted with myself and, further more, disgusted with my brothers because the jerks had been the ones to leave me on the couch. I'd say it was more or less Raph and Casey than it was any of the others and further more Leo and Master Splinter would have never gone to sleep before we were all home.

That means that they all had knowingly left me all night on the couch after I had faint—passed out!

The bastardiness of my family continued to astound me as I thought over the zombie apocalypse and all the shenanigans it had already made me go through.

Surely the world must have been turned against me for some reason. Karma or whatever heavenly force you may call it was not being very kind to me and I had yet to decide. It seemd that I was destined for a time of great pleasure to make up for it or because in some past life I had taken over a third world country.

Surprisingly, at the thought of third world countries, I couldn't help but recall how the Affliction had done just the opposite to the economy than what everyone had been expecting. I guess when a bunch of Afflicted employees were disgruntled the first person they would eat would be their bosses.

A few months into the Affliction Crisis Wall Street became a favorite buffet of the zombies and soon there were no bigwigs to be concerned with.

That didn't so much as help the economy as it made people laugh and decide to start shopping again. Back then zombies were much more likely to go after a guy in a suit, so regular citizens shopped 'till they dropped.

Unfortunately, as they dropped, the zombies decided not to be picky with their food anymore.

"…rwrrrrrrr"

The noise got my attention fast enough. I nearly had my head spin off my neck when I first heard it. I calmed some as I saw two yellow eyes in the darkness.

"…rwrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr…"

It was Klunk, of course.

Mike had probably forgotten to feed him that morning and I knew that, even if Klunk spent the least amount of time with me, I should probably feed that undying hunger of his.

If we didn't please Klunk's appetite from time to time then he would find some way or another to venture out into the sewers and hunt for the lovely New York City Sanitation System's favorite pestilence.

Ordinarily we attempted to stop this bad habit of Rat Hunting from forming because it did make Master Splinter rather uncomfortable. I mean, wouldn't it have bothered you if your family pet was dragging something that very well could have been your brother or sister up to your feet every other day.

Worse yet, Klunk always acted like our father should have rewarded his efforts somehow. When our sensei didn't, Klunk would follow him around, hissing and meowing for attention. This greatly annoyed our master.

"Alright, Klunk," I muttered as I rubbed my head. "I'll get you something to eat."

"…rwwwwwrrrrrrrrr…"

I slowly rose to my feet and sighed. In my vision there was this unreasonable glaring light that would not move out of my way. That's when it came across my mind that I had several symptoms similar to the few times Raph and Casey had convinced me to partake in alcoholic consumption.

Then it came across my mind that perhaps Splinter and Leo had left me on the couch last night because they assumed the worst and were displeased with my supposed late night binge drinking with "the boys."

It was at that moment that I decided that if a zombie were to attack Raphael or Casey Jones I would probably let it.

I could only imagine how they assisted Leo and Splinter in reaching this assumption by falsifying stories of my condition. Raph knew by that point that I was not mad at him for the game plan requiring my death for completion and thus released his immature joking side.

It was like having another Michelangelo except this one was much crueler and more original in his charades.

"…rwwrrrrrr…"

I looked weakly to the beady gold eyes and shook my head. They seemed stranger the more I looked at them. They also seemed bizarrely closer.

I thought for sure it was just my headache talking, though.

"What do you want to eat, Klunk?" I questioned with a sigh.

I had to make sure that Klunk got some food because Mike would throw an absolute fit **again** if he found out that Klunk was hungry and we ignored him. He'd have an absolute **conniption** if Klunk went out Rat Hunting due to his hunger.

Prior to the outbreak we would inhibit Klunk's hunting to appease Master Splinter. Under the Affliction, however, we did our best to stop his charades because it was dangerous.

There was no telling what could be Afflicted those days.

I leaned forward, looking at the golden eyes. "What do you want to eat, Klunk?" I tried again.  
The cat snarled and lunged forward, its half rotted, unhinged jaw aiming for my throat.

I never imagined that poor, sweet Klunk was hungry for **me. **

I had never been one to kill Afflicted, of course, but this was beyond ridiculous! I couldn't be in charge of hurting my brother's pet cat!

Grabbing the closest thing I could find, I clutched to the couch pillow and knocked the feral feline to the side. Klunk did not like this much since it led to the terrible crack and displacement of his left back leg.

Not that that slowed him down any. He simply hissed and ran at me again.

"SHIT!" I screamed before knocking him over the head with the pillow again and taking off toward the kitchen."HELP!"

I don't know why I automatically headed toward the kitchen. Somewhere in the back of my mind I suppose I believed I could still feed Klunk his fish smelling canned food and everyone be settled and happy again. On the other hand, perhaps I was playing on the shear irony of everyone's undying appetite in this apocalyptic world.

The most likely, in my mind at least, is that I was too scared out of my mind to think straight and running the hell out of the living room was the first thing that came to mind. Fight or flight I suppose.

About at that time, true to form, Mike showed up, coming out of the kitchen. He grinned at me.

"Hey there! How was the buzz?" Mike questioned before I ducked behind him, frantic. "Huh, still tipsy?"

"Your cat's trying to kill me!" I explained as collectively as I could.

"Yup, still tipsy," Mike chuckled.

I almost corrected him.

"...rwwwrrrrrrr…"

We both looked and blinked at the sight of the slobbering cat of the undead. Klunk looked like a rag doll that had been put on a spin cycle. Clearly the stuffing was oozing out of him at all angles and, worst of all, the initial place of infection was shown.

A single bite wound from a rat had been the source of ailment. By that point it was too late and Mike knew it.

A pathetic whimper released itself from my brother's throat and he blinked. He looked like a school child who was facing a math problem that simply could not be solved.

"Klunk?" he asked.

"Mike, he's Afflicted!" I exclaimed as the small cat approached. I nearly grew faint again as the dislocated leg crunched and cracked with each step. "I'll give you** two hundred** points if you take care of this one."

I hardly could believe the words that leaked from my mouth and neither would have Mikey… had he been paying any attention to me.

He stared at Klunk, still flabbergasted. "Klunk?" he tried again, because it worked so well the first time.

"Rwrrrrrrr!"

We watched in horror as the former pet lunged forward toward us. Death by cat was not something in a million years that I would have imagined happening. I certainly didn't' think it would happen to me but just in general it sounded ridiculous.

It was not death by cat that day, though. As Klunk lunged forward so did someone else who had been running toward the mayhem when I wasn't paying attention.

Much like when a stake is driven through a hog, Raphael's Sai came downward through the precious cat. There was a tremendous splatter as the pronged weapon impaled the feline's skull and quite easily expelled the tissue matter.

Specks of disgusting goo and festering fluids riddled what little of my body had been exposed in my hiding.

Unfortunately for Mike, he got the majority of the disgusting juice for himself.

He just stared forward and watched, as if in the middle of a movie, as Raph held up his Sai and looked over the weak, limp form of Klunk, our first and last pet.

Our, however, is a loose word here. See, Klunk was the family pet, yes, but he was also more selective than that. Klunk was **Mike's** cat and there wasn't really anything he had grown attached to like Klunk.

Now Klunk was hanging off our brother's Sai like road kill and Raph was staring at the prized pet like it was a shrunken head he had earned from a battle for the heartlands. It was twisted and sick and, for the first time, I think Mike came to understand that.

"You killed my cat!" Mike exploded just as Leo and Splinter entered the scene.

"No, the Affliction killed Klunk," Raph explained smugly. "I just made it physically official."

Without warning, Mike rushed forward to grab a hold of Raph and it took both Leo and me to hold him back from absolutely murdering the best friend he had ever had.

"Klunk was my cat!" he yelled.

"He was everyone's cat, Mike!" Raph snapped back before looking to the dangling corpse. "But that wasn't Klunk. It was a zombie cat. A zombie cat that was hungry for turtle flesh. You gotta understand that I didn't do it to be evil or nuttin'."

"You did it because you're a jerk!" Mike huffed as he stopped struggling long enough for Leo and I to let him go. "And a meanie and everything! What did Klunk do to you?"

"Try to eat my brothers," Raph snorted, blatantly growing sick of the conversation.

"I wish he'd eaten you!" Mike snapped before rushing up to Raph, snatching Klunk away from him and pausing.

We all stilled and looked to see that Klunk's head was still on Raph's pointed Sai… while Mike held the body about a foot away. No one really knew what to say and, thus, no one said anything although

I found the entire situation ludicrously funny.

In a sign of goodness, Raph slid the skewered skull off his sai and offered the bloody thing to Mike. Mike then accepted and left without a word to anyone else.

We all just watched.

"Well," Leo sighed as he folded his arms. "We know now that the Afflicted in the family wasn't Don. Let's just hope that Mike takes this well."

It took me a minute but I realized what he was talking about. We were waiting to see who would bring the warning from Casey and ultimate cliché to ironic truth. The suspicion had always rested in the more mutated version of the family.

"It could make for some interesting jokes, though," Raph chuckled. "Death Kitty."

I agreed with them all but I couldn't help but feel bad for Mike. This went double the next day when he had us attend a memorial service and cremation. We had to burn the body to ensure the disease would not spread through it.

Hopeless cause but I digress.

From that point on, Mike didn't have the heart to fight the Afflicted as he had before Klunk's passing. The spirit wasn't there anymore.

This made Raph the undeniable leader in the point game.

…

A/N: …

Please Review


	9. Apocalypse Now

Special thank yous go out to Effar and my faithful reviewer. I appreciate you both so very much for supporting this fic and must commend Effar for not losing her own sanity while venturing on this one with me.

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger  
**Chapter Nine: Apocalypse Now

My pace was going to have to pick up if I had any hopes of avoiding the snapping jaws and drooling teeth of the horde. I exaggerate not; I was chased by an entire horde this time around. It was not one of my prouder blunders.

One thing that Master had always stressed when we were younger was that we should try our absolute best to run as hard and fast as we could. This built up endurance and while I was not the quickest of my beloved family, I could surely out run the slimy, decrepit messes that were the Afflicted.

I could feel the soreness settle in my bones as I pressed forward but it fortunately did not slow me down. Then again, it's fairly easy to avoid pain when adrenaline is pumping.

And nothing gets adrenaline pumping quite like running for your life.

I turned a corner and took a breather, smacking my shell against the brick and sliding down, watching as the less than intelligent Afflicted ran past the alley I had sharply turned into. I was glad that the dumb trick worked because I sure hadn't expected it to.

I'd honestly expected that to not work.

Standing up, I began to look around, preparing for another sprint.

Hordes had been harder and harder to avoid and because of the Point Game, they had become very familiar with my family. Even quiet me was considered a murderer among the brainless zombies. It was a shame that Raphael's control of the family had taken such a drastic turn.

Since Klunk's death a few weeks before, Mike just didn't kill at the masterful rate that he had before. Leonardo was never quite as good as Mike and Raph. They had had years of virtually simulated practice meaning he wasn't ever much competition despite trying his hardest. I, of course, was not playing.

This had left Raph in control as the consistent leader, much to Leonardo's disapproval. The rules of the Point Game dictated, however, and there was not much he could say about it. It looked as though Fearless Leader would not be leader until after the Zombie Apocalypse.

The rest of us could only hold our breaths and wait until then.

On the bright side, Raph was much more lenient with me than Leo or Mike were during these times. Ever since the bar, Raph had kind of cut me slack about my inability to kill and let me dally forth, venturing into the putrid, festering surface world to scavenge for parts.

Unfortunately Raph was much more lenient with me than Leo or Mike during these times. He let me go to the surface alone where I had several encounters like these, dozens of times a day, over the smallest computer unit.

For someone so smart, I must admit that I have no common sense. They always seemed like good plans at the time.

I glanced one way and saw nothing, glanced the other and saw nothing. There was only the manhole cover at the center of the street and there seemed to be no Afflicted or Zombie Slayers around to take a chunk out of me.

This was a good sign.

There was a stale quietness to the world around me, one that appeared to be draining. It was much like how sound was destroyed and sucked into a Black Hole. It was usually something experienced in movies before imminent danger.

This was a bad sign.

I looked at myself. My tote was over my shoulder with the new computer equipment in its side pockets. The only weapon I carried, my Bo, seemed strangely useless at that moment. It wasn't like I was going to use it anyway.

My heart felt strangely out of place in my chest. I imagined it twisting and turning, too large for its surroundings, while it continued a rapid rhythm. I wished it would calm down because I had heard from my brothers that it was one way an Afflicted could track me.

I had to calm myself…

Which wasn't happening, so I decided to make a mad dash toward the center of the road and, inadvertently, the manhole cover of salvation. It felt like a good plan in my viewpoint.

Shaking off convention, I sprinted, my vision still tunneled on the manhole cover. I felt as though I was finally going to make it, get home, be safe. It was going to be a successful day on my own! At long last!

That's when I heard the moaning.

I barely looked over my shoulder to see that from every corner and every crevice, Afflicted, fresh and putrid alike, were dragging themselves toward me with their gapping mouths and hollow glares. It was so scary they looked like they stepped out of a Vincent Price movie.

I stood for a moment, gapping at the sheer number of these things and wondering why everyone who could would be coming at me at this moment. There were millions of people in New York. Why would a single green guy attract every Afflicted creature on the block?

That's when it hit me.

Everyone in New York with the exception of my family, Klunk rest in peace, and friends was already Afflicted or the Hell Out of There. It was as if the city itself was the epicenter of infection and all that was left to feast on was my family and friends.

Oh, and me.

It was like a turtle buffet and I was strangely not enjoying being on the menu.

As the weeks had progressed and decay had devoured more and more mass of the Afflicted, the undead dead had been noticeably slowed. This I used to my advantage as I grabbed the corners of the manhole cover and lifted it up, chucked it to the side, and slid onto the ladder.

In the corner of my eye I watched as the rolling cover rammed the advancing parties of zombies, taking off their legs and arms much like a canon would.

The pang of guilt returned to my side and I looked away. It was all I could do to return to the task at hand and begin lowering myself into the sewers yet again. The image of those poor Sheeple lying on the ground, sliced in half, pulverized as all I could think of.

The sewers were unnaturally dark, even for the sewers, and as I reached the floor I felt slightly unnerved.

The statutes of Karma, for whatever reason, were still ringing in my ears as I firmly decided that perhaps fighting back against these fiends, even if it was on accident, wouldn't be as intelligent as it once was. They were the overwhelming populace now, after all.

Not able to take the darkness much longer, I reached into my bag's first compartment. There, as it always was, remained my patient flashlight. I sighed as I took and flicked the switch. The light beamed through the darkness.

The light then met with the figures of deformed, monstrous Afflicted. There was apparently a sewer horde to deal with now.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I groaned before sliding my Bo over my shell and glaring around at them all. They were hollowly staring at me, their midnight snack. I wished desperately to be anywhere else.

Their jaws dripped with their contagious drool and their faces sank beneath thinly pulled back skin. Some of them even had huge, lidless eyes staring at me with unnatural fixation. To make things worse there was a little girl Afflicted who would have been wearing her golden locks in two pigtails had half of her skull not been bitten off, revealing a fleshy mass of cranial tissue and brain matter.

"They're nibbling on each other?" I asked myself as I felt so very sorry for them. "Wait… Why am I feeling sorry for them?"

There was that million dollar question yet again. What the hell **was** wrong with me? It's not even like the little Zombie Girl was cute in her own right! Her green teeth were chipped and mismatched and her fingernails were sharp enough to have belonged to Klunk, rest in peace.

"I have something obviously psychologically wrong with me," was the only answer I could conceive when the moaning and groaning started.

Even more so than the fact that they attempted to either infect or eat all of mankind, I despised that moaning and groaning the Afflicted made. It seemed so very cliché and, better yet, what are they moaning and groaning about? They're dead!

I'm the one that should have been moaning and groaning! I'd been chased around all night, fearing for my life, and was very, very tired…

What the hell were they so upset for? The cry babies!

Fortunately for me, the sound of a motor and the shining of bright lights behind them attracted the Afflicted's attention. I recognized the distinct motor running and sighed with relief. I made everything in the Lair so when any of the instruments were used in my salvation it felt very much like one of my own children were coming to my rescue. It was sad but true.

The engine hummed again and with a screech the vehicle rushed forward, knocking half a dozen of the horde into a wall, splattering the little girl on the grill of the Sewer Slider like some sort of bug. I was rather shocked at how accurately that comparison could have been made.

Despite the visual of the pale pink of her ruptured liver, the little girl's internal organs mixed in an oddly expected green slush.

The windshield wipers turned on and wiped the little girl's remains off.

Mike leaned over the side and smirked. "Heya, Donny! Hope you don't mind me giving you a ride back to the Lair. Things are heating up there and we don't want you to miss any of the fireworks. If you know what I mean."

"I'd appreciate a lift, Mike," I sighed before running up and flipping into the front passenger seat.

He floored it in reverse before I could get my seatbelt on and I couldn't help but think how pathetic it would be to have survived such a bad night only to die at the hands of my younger brother. I shook my head and hooked the seat belt as he paused to turn.

"Did you learn anything useful?" he asked with a grin. I knew what he wanted but I wasn't about to tell him a lie.

There was still no cure I was aware of.

"I learned that we are in fact suffering the effects of an apocalypse. It appears that every person in the city has been transformed into a mindless creature. So yes, Mike, you'll fit in just fine," I responded sarcastically as I leaned back, allowing my body to already begin folding into the seat as Mike drove toward the Lair.

He floored it.

"Well, we figured that already, Don-boy," he laughed.

"What's the big news?" I dared to ask, pretending my curiosity led the change of conversation rather than the fact that I was uncomfortable with discussing the world's imminent doom. He didn't buy it but he kept up.

"Oh, Splinter made Raph leader," he sighed. "It's been crazy."

"WHAT?" I asked, sure this had to be some sort of joke. I maintained that thought until I saw the seriousness in Mike's eyes. "For good? What about Leo? I thought Raph was just winning the game for kicks. I didn't think—"

"He **doesn't** want to be the actual leader, and we don't know if it's for good or until the 'Apocalypse' is over," Mike admitted with a shrug. "But Splinter's making Raph decide how to get us out of New York. April and Casey called to tell us that who do remain 'good' in the city are being evacuated. They might nuke us."

I stared.

"So this is where they start going downhill in the movies, right?" I asked with a sigh.

"Yeah," Mike muttered with a shrug. "I guess this is where shit happens and you live or die."

…

A/N: …

Please Review!


	10. Arsonry

Thanks for the support of this crack-fic, guys. It means a lot X3

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger  
**Chapter Ten: Arsonry

By the time we reached the Lair I felt like I had just turned the channel to a soap opera half an hour in. Mike had caught me up enough to where I felt as though I knew what was happening but it still felt **foreign** and strange.

Strangely enough, though, this was the most my family had acted like themselves in the longest time.

I could at least take comfort in the fact that I was, for once, not the only one finding the circumstances odd and surrealistic. Mike and I had only taken a few steps into the Lair and were suddenly frozen, caught watching the drama unfold.

Leo was perpetually cast in stone. He apparently had never recovered from the initial shock of the mantle of leader being handed over by Master Splinter himself. Rather than reacting to our entry, his face remained forward, staring hard at our father.

Raphael was somewhat better. After a few moments, he looked over his shoulder. When he saw only us, he looked back to our father and rubbed his temples. He was emotionally distraught, all these surfacing responses merged together to the point that even Raph wasn't sure how he was going to respond anymore.

My attention was mostly on Master Splinter. He didn't seem too moved one way or the other. It was much more like he was extremely tired, had just woke up for the first time. That was when I noticed something I hadn't before.

This was the first time that our father had intervened with us in the Apocalypse. It was as if he was bringing back the missing sanity that only I seemed to miss.

And I have to admit, I wasn't too fond of the methods.

"I still don't get it, Sensei!" Raphael finally exploded. He turned and faced our father more directly, shaking his head in utter confusion. "You're tellin' me that I get to be leader because of some stupid game we were playin'?"

Exactly.

Call me crazy, but that didn't seem logical to me at all. And judging by the expression on Master Splinter's face, he felt the same. But there was something else in our father's eyes that told me there was some other plan at work here.

I believe I thought for everyone when I questioned what exactly that plan could have been.

"How has this game worked for the family thus far?" Master questioned collectively. He turned his head to the side expectantly. I almost felt compelled to say that it had gotten us nowhere, but Raph responded long before I could.

"I haven't done nothin' with being a leader, Master Splinter," he said lowly. "I've just kept up what we've been doin' since the beginning. Go around and bash some zombie heads in. That's it!"

I looked to Leonardo who had at last closed his mouth. That only succeeded in showing that he was lightheaded, though. I watched as he swayed, still dizzy from the shock, and found himself flat footed balance again.

I felt compellingly sorry for our leader. The team had just gone de facto and Leo was still competent to lead. Again I had to question why Master Splinter was doing this. It was the first time I had seen Raph upset over getting one over Leo.

"You do not want the position, Raphael?" Master questioned. "You have all told me that we need to leave the city under our current situation. I will not allow our fates to be questioned unless we are being led. You have all so frivolously thrown around the position of leader until this point. I am confused."

"I don't want it **this** way, Master Splinter!" Raph responded quickly. "We were just pretending that we were, like, playing a game. Y'know, the ones that we always have on the Gamestation. We weren't doing it to be serious. Leo's still—"

"I have already spoken with Leonardo," Master Splinter interrupted. "From what I have uncovered, he has resigned his position as leader until after this Affliction has passed."

"That's not what I meant—" Leo attempted to explain only to be silenced once Master Splinter raised his hand, signaling silence.

I almost let out a groan as everything began to make sense. This was Master Splinter's way of proving a point. He was as upset as I was about how things had worked out in the Zombie Apocalypse, not to mention this could finally bury the hatchet between Leo and Raph.

I looked to Mike for the first time since we entered the Lair and he was wearing the same expression of epiphany that I was.

There was at least the assurance that I wasn't the only one upset with the muck we were stuck in. I only wished that I could have felt better about it. Instead of that content feeling of being surrounded by the family I had missed I was lost with the fact that no one knew what to do about it.

I looked to them all and sighed as Raphael finally nodded, accepting the fact that the weight Leo had carried for so long was now on his shoulders. He swallowed and looked to our father, frowning that this was the way he received the position that he had wanted for so long.

"Okay," he said lowly. "What do you want me to do?"

Master Splinter tilted his head to the other side and seemed to think over the question himself. It had been a long time since he had to counsel Leo on this subject. He finally smiled slightly and waved his hand at all of us, pushing Raph toward us. "Lead," he responded simply.

Raph looked at us and rubbed his head before turning around, allowing Splinter to sit down and observe his work.

"Okay, fine," he said quietly, looking to each of us as if he was expecting an uprising at the announcement. He got none, though. "We're going to do this Night of the Dead style, y'know what that means, right?"

The question, of course, was given to the token non-gamer of the group. As that token, I merely sighed and nodded, rolling my eyes at how little was always expected from me. I knew it wouldn't take long after this moment of sanity for everyone to return to the crazed state we had all grown so accustomed to.

"Mike, you and I saw that place topside, pawn shop, right? It had a lot of guns and ammo," Raph continued, this time focusing on Michelangelo.

"Yeah, it's abandoned now, though I don't know how much stuff woulda been left," Mike reasoned. "We don't know if the owners left while they could or went Zombie on us. Even if they didn't take the stuff, though, I couldn't imagine the Zombie Slayers letting the place sit for long."

"Pawn shops like that would always have the best equipment under lock and key, though," Leo finally spoke up, joining the group. I smiled at him. We still needed our master strategist after all. "Don could break into a place like that easily enough. Don't you think, Don?"

"Sure, especially since the police don't respond to break ins anymore," I added.

"What's your opinion then, Leo?" Raph asked.

Mike and I looked to one another. We knew what was happening even if Raph and Leo didn't. Raph was calling the shots but in the end he needed Leo's counsel like we always did. In a way, things weren't changing so much as our group was moving from a system directed by one leader to more of an oligarchy.

This could make things interesting to say the least.

"Mike and I can position ourselves just outside the shop and keep anything outside from getting in. You and Don could get in, Don unlocks the safes, and you choose the weapons you think we'll need. We could take the Battle Shell to make sure we do it as quick as possible **and** take everything we want."

"Then we can talk to April and Casey about getting out of the city soon," Raph nodded. "Okay, let's do this. Don, get the van."

I groaned and did as told. I should have known better. In an oligarchy the productive members of society got to vote on what the leader should do but the lowly lay people, such as myself, who couldn't be productive were left with the grunt work. Ordered around. Pushed about.

Oh, well. I supposed I sealed my fate by choosing to keep my humanity over senseless slaughter. My bad.

There wasn't too much to complain about anyway. I got the Battle Shell ready and within minutes my brothers had joined me, Raph taking the wheel so as to run over some zombies. I couldn't ever get over the feeling of running over bodies so I couldn't do that job, let alone get us there efficiently. After eight the zombies were getting harder to avoid.

Instead I was left with my thoughts in the back when the van came to a stop. It wasn't a long drive making me question once more why the hell we took the van in the first place.

"Okay, let's move!" Raph announced as our seatbelts simultaneously began to click.

My earlier analysis that the Apocalypse's scenario had become ever more present in the fact that everyone and their grandmother was suddenly a zombie became strikingly apparent. We leaped out of the Battle Shell to find that despite my newly ordained brother's homicidal driving the van was already surrounded by a horde.

In proper response, a chorus of the alarmed calling of "shit" passed through the mouths of all four of us.

"We'll help ya out some," Raph growled as he produced his Sai, true to form, and attempted to take up Leo's left side.

As per usual this left me with the horrendous task of taking up the right phalanx which, under non-Apocalyptic scenarios, would have been okay. At that time, however, it merely left me surrounded by zombies drooling around me while I lovingly referred to them in my thoughts as poor Sheeple who couldn't help their cannibalistic nature brought on by a raging Affliction of Swine Flu.

Fortunately, where Raph seemed to falter in leadership, Leo regained some of his old sensibility and shook his head. He pointed toward the pawn shop's door.

"No, stick with the plan. Mike and I can hold off these guys," Leo stated in the remnants of his authoritative state. It was enough for Raph and, to be honest, was enough for me to start moving toward the store.

Leo and Mike took care of the rotting animated corpses and I would have been more impressed had it not been that they were numb from the neck up and moving at the pace of a newborn sloth. I digress, though. They were risking their lives after all.

"Woulja look at this?" Raph chuckled as he looked around. "It really is like a damn video game. Everything's left in perfect condition, right in the open, and all ya need to do to get to it is bust open some glass. Who woulda thunk it?"

Certainly not me, though, the constant reminders of video game cliché continued to bother me. If this world was becoming so much like a video game, when would the unsatisfactory ending come into play? Or the tragic decision to leave a man behind because he was one of them?

Why couldn't this have been more like a certain music video about zombies rather than actual horrific experiences with them? I think I could have settled for that more than I could have this ammoral world of violence and gore.

Without much more incentive, Raph began to burst open the glass cases of the gun racks and ammunition stocks. It, of course, triggered a multitude of alarms but, hey, it's not like we were knocking to be nice anyway.

On and on he went, bashing and smashing for his weapons while I gathered some other useful supplies. Some of this was jewelry and what not so that, through April and Casey, we could barter later on for other needed items. Flashlights and other random assorted goods were also added to my pile when Raph came over and grinned at me.

"You found the safe?" I said expectantly.

"Oh, hell yeah."

"Need help getting it open?"

"Hell yes."

I sighed and looked to him. I couldn't help but relate the expression on his face to that of our old, childhood innocence and excitement. Well, at least I would if it wasn't for the fact he was holding two assault rifles in his arms which gave the expression a much more psychotic look than anything else.

"Fine, take me to it," I grimaced before following him to a back room which looked much more like the walk-in refrigerator in April's old apartment than it did anything else. There was a simple padlock on it and I shook my head. "That's it?"

"Yeah, what of it?" he said in cold response to my sarcasm. "Can you open it or not, egg head?"

"Anyone can open it!" I snapped before pointing to the padlock. "It's not an actual safe lock. I bet you it's no more related to the lock on that door than it is to you or me. You could shoot it off and get the same result—"

I should have known better than to even mention it.

That instant his rifle was cocked, aimed, and fired right before my face and the electronic device burst open with a spew of sparks. I blinked a few times and he grinned at me.

"Thanks for the suggestion," he said before swinging the weapon over his shoulder. "I knew I brought you along for a reason."

Rolling my eyes, I muttered how senseless this was to myself again and waited as Raph entered and laughed. "What kinda back room deals was this place running? There's more machine guns and big ammo in here than I know what to do with."

Sighing, I figured he and Mike would figure out something or another to do with it all considering they'd be the only ones using them. Changed as he might have been, Leo wasn't goingg to be using a gun any time soon though he might encourage us to do so. I wasn't going to get any more involved with this nonsense than I already was so I was out of the question.

Yet, as usual, we were goin to all maintain ourselves and survive. I knew that much at least.

We packed up what was left in the store and made our way back outside where our awaiting brothers and a few surrounding piles of finally resting corpses surrounded us. They helped us load up and hop in and I began to feel strangely sick to my stomach.

It was not because I was sick or saddened by the sight of so much death but rather I found myself thinking something I never thought I would.

I thought to myself, About time someone put these bastards to rest.

…

A/N: PLOT POINTS

Please Review


	11. Moving On

Amazing thanks to Effar for being the Beta reader of this fanfic!

**(Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger  
**Chapter Eleven: Moving On

Surprisingly, things moved pretty much according to plan after that. I'm not saying that Raph had this hidden talent at being a leader we all overlooked but I am saying that in a world with ravenous zombies, we all paid extra attention to the directions he gave us. Of those directions, getting our arsonry was actually miraculously easy.

This didn't really settle my worrying mind, though, because we'd yet to experience the Big Boo.

Believe it or not, this paranoid outlook was actually Mike's contribution to the mission rather than mine. He had offered the scenario of, "What if it all started going downhill as soon as we made plans to get out of the city? Think about it! Every time the survivors try to do something in movies or video games to escape the city they're trapped in things start going terribly wrong. What if we take off and we realize that this entire time we were exposed to some strange kind of radiation? What if we're all slowly turning into zombies?"

The concept was sadly acceptable enough in the current reality but Leo and Raph hushed the idea real quick. They said we didn't need to be panicking at a time when the entire city's turned into the living dead and we're quickly running out of options.

Funny. That's when I always assumed it was the best time to start panicking.

As per usual, I kept most of my mind's ramblings to myself and carried what supplies were in my arms the rest of the way to the Lair. I didn't do much to aid the physical efforts of survival so why should I try to be a planning kind of guy?

The next phase of Raph's directives was to call up April and Casey, invite them over, and try to get the surface's understanding of the Zombie Pandemic. After all, we couldn't get a full picture living underground.

I was in charge of fixing up something to eat mostly because Master Splinter was busy talking to Raph, Raphael didn't give a crap, Leonardo was too busy eavesdropping, and Michelangelo was still too depressed.

My cooking skills were less than desirable so I relied heavily upon the hope that somewhere in the cabinets and fridge the rested a can of something microwavable or a box of something pre-cooked to perfection.

I found a roll of Nestle cookies and I figured what the hell.

By the time April and Casey had arrived the cookies were ready and I got them out just in time to notice the ones in the very back were black and stuck to the pan while the ones in the front were runny and cold.

Fantastic.

Fortunately enough this left the middle rows of about twelve cookies edible and those were the ones I slapped onto the plate. The rest were either too hard or too nasty to get off of the tray so I put them back into the oven and hoped to remember they were in there later.

I entered the living room where April and Casey were already sitting on the couch and the rest of my family was gathered, staring strangely at me once they saw my choice of h for the occasion. I couldn't blame them and at the same time I didn't really care so I set the plate down on the table.

"Thank you, Donny," April said with a quizzical look at the plate.

I shrugged and said not to mention, which I meant more literally than they took it to be, and sat down on the available chair, Mike sitting at my feet with a glum look aimed at the ball of yarn he had just found underneath the couch. I knew I forgot to throw away something of Klunk's…

"So, what's new that you guys can tell us?" Leo asked after an awkward silence in which Raph forgot his leader lines.

"Not much that you all probably couldn't already figure out," April sighed before looking to us. "The government's putting the city on Quarantine in the next twenty-four hours and anyone remaining in the city, even if they're unafflicted, will not be guaranteed any mercy from the forces."

How classic. We all looked to each other quietly, our eyes exchanging the shared thoughts of how good we were for already seeing this coming.

It particularly pepped Mike up considering that he had mentioned the Big Boo just beforehand and had been chewed out for the reference. I was glad he could hold his head up a bit more but at the same time I wish he had been wrong.

"Have they given any signal as to how the people are supposed to evacuate?" Raph asked, more concerned for Casey and April than he was for us. After all, the government really didn't have us as part of the census. How would they know if we had survived their eradication of the Afflicted?

"That's the thing,"Casey said with a scowl on his face. "They haven't said anything to the people. It's all top secret stuff with the exception of a select few. We only heard about it because one of my Cousin Sid's pals had intercepted a letter to the mayor."

We all rubbed our necks. We'd dealt with Sid before and he was, to say the least, not a very reliable witness. As much as we loved Casey we knew that anything that came out of the mouths of his family members had to be taken with a grain of salt.

Still, the idea was something that we couldn't overlook. If Sid was right and the city's days were numbered then, well, we might want to take things a bit more seriously.

"So do you know what will happen to the city after the quarantine?" Raph dared to ask.

"Dude, isn't it obvious?" Mike piped up. "I mean, think about it, bro, what happens in every zombie game or movie? The government's going to come in with their big tanks, big guns, and bigger nukes and blow the virus up with anyone Afflicted with it. Thought Sodom and Gomorra were gone? Consider this town history!"

I blinked and looked over to Mike, rather impressed admittedly. "Wow, Mike. You know about Sodom and Gomorra?"

"Dude, I stole that from a movie," he admitted candidly. "But seriously, New York's toast! Everything from Long Island to Queens is going to be flattened and forgotten."

Sighing at the mild exaggerations, I looked over to Leonardo who shook his head. "No, I don't think nukes will be the main concern, Mike. I think the government's trying to avoid a nuclear winter the last I heard. In any case, the threat of cleaning crews does concern us somewhat. After all, how many times have we run into our dead friends in the sewers?"

This I had to admit was true. For one reason or another, the Afflicted population underground had been growing rather noticeably in the past week or so and it was something that the government was bound to notice. I'd say Leo didn't exactly think we should be around for when the troops stormed the sewers.

"Good point, Leonardo," Master Splinter nodded before looking to the rest of us. "I believe this occasion would in fact call for our retreat. It is much too dangerous as things are now."

It was then that our father turned his cautious eye toward Raphael, something Raph had been attempting to avoid throughout the conversation. The final decision, after all, would be up to our leader and as much as Raph liked to send in a rebuttal for Leo's final decisions, making them on his own with everything put into consideration was another concept entirely.

He grunted and folded his arms as if he was going to have a pouting fit before nodding. "Yeah, okay. We need to get out before things get worse. Sure. But where to?"

"Well, Casey and I are heading up to the farm tomorrow morning after we pack some more supplies," April spoke up. "In hindsight, it's a wonder why we waited so long to get moving but we're ready now. And from what we've heard we'll be leaving just in time. You guys are always welcome to go with us."

We looked to each other. It was a solid enough plan.

"The modifications I've made on the Battle Shell have helped us maneuver in the city well enough," I added at long last, taking the first cookie for myself. I tried to not be offended when I realized no one was eating them. I guess the nostalgia of cookies didn't work in an Apocalypse or something to that effect. "Not to mention it's roomier now, too. We could load it up and take it."

"Good suggestion, Don," Leo replied with a nod.

"Yeah," Raph added.

Casey laughed and grabbed himself a cookie. "Sure thing, we can take your guys' van but there won't be much use for it up in Northampton. Haven't you all heard? It's a safe haven!"

That was when we all froze up and looked to one another again. That near-telekinetic communication between us was firing off as we all thought along the same lines. It didn't take a zombie expert to know that in the Afflicted Apocalypse there was never such a thing as a safe haven.

Suddenly what had seemed like such a great idea beforehand was becoming more and more like Mike's suggested Big Boo. We could imagine together so clearly what it would be like to have our hopes up only to be savagely let down in the end. It would be devastating.

Then again, for me, it would be like every other minute in the Zombie Apocalypse so I just took another cookie into my mouth and chewed like a rabbit. They were going to make a decision without any of my input anyway. I had little to no reason to start worrying.

"You guys still up for it?" Casey questioned after a long silence.

The decision had to be made and I sensed that once it was decided no one was going to be a particular fan of it. That was when there was a disturbing gargling from the body of water at the center of the Lair.

Our pond was a bit of a joke as it was. Seeing as how the Lair was once a sewer treatment facility the free flow of water was expected. I had racked my mind when we first moved in to try to stop the flow but eventually I convinced everyone that the only real option was to make the best of the situation.

Hence we decorated the area like a serenity pond.

In our previous Lair we had such a pond which flowed from an underground tributary to the Hudson. Master Splinter particularly liked this addition and it was used for all sorts of meditative practices. To say the least, we could not do such in the Lair we moved into afterward.

It smelled and not even Mike was bold enough to dunk others into its putrid depths for a laugh. We had never really accepted it as anything more than a joke which was constantly an experimental project of mine to reroute the sewage.

After the Affliction took hold the smell became particularly noticeable and we looked away. New York itself had become stinkier from added rotted flesh so why would we have expected any different from the sewers?

Privately, though, I never could avoid the question in my mind of why it was so concentrated around the sewer pool.

When the decrepit hands rose from the sloshy depths of the pool, a scene straight out of Evil Dead I swear, I suddenly got my answer. The collected drowned dead began to emerge and stomp their feet, those that had them anyway, making their way to our living room arrangement.

Like a nervous tick, I nibbled on other chocolate chip cookie and wondered why I was so terrible at cooking that I managed to make the salvageable cookies taste salty.

"Aw, here, too?" Casey asked over April's high pitched squeal.

"I got it," Raphael suddenly spoke up before flipping over the couch and grabbing one of the newly obtained automatics lying on the table that once held my productive creations. He grinned as he began rapid fire on the animated corpses, causing them to rip apart at every entry wound.

It was interesting to watch. The zombies were all rather soggy so each bullet meeting their tightly held flesh entered with a distasteful SKKEEEESSSHHH which, for whatever reason, didn't bother me as I ate.

Not long afterward, the small threat was averted and, with a confidence reinstalled in him that could only come from free range violence, Raphael stood up with his faithful weapon in his arms. He nodded to April and Casey.

"Why don't we get leaving tonight?"

I couldn't have agreed more.

…

A/N: …


	12. Grand Theft Auto

** (Warning - Contains Extreme Violence and Filthy, Unsettling Descriptions. Dosage: To Be Taken As Prescribed)**

TMNT © Nickelodeon  
Hunger © Turtlefreak121

**Hunger  
**Chapter Twelve: Grand Theft Auto

For the first time in what felt like an eternity I was hiding in the shadows along with my brothers. It strangely felt like old times and suddenly I was realizing just how much I missed my ninjutsu roots.

The Affliction had changed a lot of things and as I looked to my brothers I could tell that they were reminiscing as well.

Just like old times, though, the moment did not get to last long. Raph signaled for us to move in and, after the period of time in this Apocalypse which I liked to refer to as a road trip through Hell, it was my turn to shine again.

Leo at my side, I ran to the large SUV as Mike and Raph took out the Afflicted surrounding it.

Like always, these poor bastards were like sheep to the slaughter, down and limbless before they could blink. There would be more along, though, and that was my motivation for moving in quickly.

Leo rammed his elbow into the window of the car and opened it, giving me a chance to slide in and begin working my magic.

The plan was simple: get a big vehicle for transporting us to Northampton with maximum safety. April and Casey's Sudan simply did not cut it as being Zombie-proof and, really, at this point in the game we couldn't risk ourselves for nostalgic value.

It started at last and I knew we were officially in business.

I raised into the seat immediately and rather emphatically leaned out of the broken window, mindful, of course, of the rigid broken glass framing the opening, and looked to an expectant Leonardo paying no heed to the combating Raphael and Michelangelo in the distance. I gave a thumbs up.

"We're good to go, gang," I said as loud as I could over the brain numbing moaning of the attacking afflicted.

Leonardo could not help but smirk at me and open the back door as soon as my fingers flipped the switch to unlock them. "Good going, Donny."

"About time, Egg Head!" Raphael yelled before sliding over the front of the vehicle so as to get to the front passenger's seat. He was in and slamming the door just as Mike leaped over the top and reached the window.

Ignoring the advancing monsters behind him, Mike grew a horrified expression and banged on the window. "No way, Raph!" he yelled. "Back when we were in the sewers I yelled shotgun! I'm supposed to ride up in the front!"

"You say that like you expected me to pay attention," Raph responded, also acting oblivious to the inching forward threat. "Besides, Splinter says I'm leader so that means I get shotgun automatically. So there!"

I was beginning to feel my stomach twist itself in knots. I looked back at Leo but he seemed as unresponsive to the threat as the others and I began to question whether or not I was the only one who saw the animated corpses approaching. Seriously? Was no one else aware of this?

"That's so unfair, dude. You shouldn't even be leader! If I wasn't in mourning I'd so have kicked your ass at Zombie Hunting. Wouldn't I, Don?" Mike retorted.

"Mike, just get in the back!" I finally interrupted.

Raphael grew an even wider grin at my blurting and pointed his thumb over his shoulder toward the back seat. I began to moan at being inexplicably used as a tie breaker. Me and my big, fat mouth. I looked away, deciding I didn't care that much anymore for the rest of the conversation.

"You heard the brain," Raph responded smugly. "Pop a squat next to Leo back there."

"Fine, don't be a jerk about it!" Mike snapped. The car door opened and then slammed shut to the screaming of a tongueless owner. "Oops."

I resisted any curiosity that might have remained in my mind and simply looked forward to the road ahead of me just before a slimy, cold hand grabbed onto my shoulder. I nearly leaped out my shell screaming.

"Michelangelo!" Leo snapped sternly through Raph and Mike's laughter.

Glaring, I looked to the zombie hand on my shoulder and saw that it was nothing but a bone at the wrist, a puppet. A puppet that was held by none other than my loving, kind-hearted brother Michelangelo. Sometimes I wondered why I hadn't flipped out and made _them _all corpses by that point.

"You guys ready?" I asked with my lack of patience shining through.

"Yes, Donny!" a chime of responses rang.

Shifting the car into drive, I would have happily drove us all back to April's shop where we'd pick up the rest of our assorted adopted family and headed the rest of the way to Northampton without another stop. Would have.

Instead something, some instinct enabled from long before the murderous rampages and unadulterated violence of the Zombie Apocalypse took over and I looked out my broken window toward the screams of a woman.

"Huh, someone's being eaten," Raph said as he leaned back.

"That's a shame," Mike continued on beat as he waved the hand around like it was a new play thing. I had to quit looking in the mirror because of it. It was kinda making me sick and, at the same time, getting me really angry because it reminded me of that damn prank.

I put my foot on the gas pedal and headed left, a direction my brothers immediately took notice of since it was not toward April's store.

"Donny, what are you doing?" Leo asked with a scowl I could see in my side mirror. "April's store is the other way. You know that."

I kept going and the others began catching on. I didn't care. It was _my _turn to use external exposition and I'd be damned if I wasn't about to use it!

"Can't you guys hear that or do you just not care anymore?" I asked seething, looking at them through the mirrors and watching their confused expressions. "Six months ago, a year ago, we would have been there in an instant to help someone who needed it. It was the _honorable _thing to do and we weren't caught in this condescending reality we're now faced with. So here's our chance. We can help someone out again."

"They're goners, Don," Raph snapped. "How many times have we already done this only for the person we tried to save try to take a bite out of us? It's not worth it."

"There's no honor in stupidity," Leonardo reminded me.

"Oh, really? I thought there was no honor in cowardice!" I hissed before finally looking forward and widening my eyes just as I hit a woman who was desperately on the run from a horde of foul looking, mouth breathing zombie monsters. "SHIT!"

She laid on the hood as I slammed on the breaks and I thought for a moment that she must have given up on life at that point and, really, who could blame her? Still, I felt horrible so I threw the car into park and leaped out of the door before I could think over the idiocy of my actions.

It was a moot point, admittedly, but I was about to save someone… who, incidentally, I hit with the car.

Unfortunately, her zombie friends did not seem so keen on letting her free and were quickly surrounding the car. I began to think over and over again in my mind, what was that rule that I told myself I was going to obey? Not being a hero in mortal danger? No, that wasn't it. Not to go crazy? Yeah, that one.

I think I was failing my own promise.

Fortunately, my brothers were not about to let me be skewered by our rotting enemies and soon I found myself watching the gore as Afflicted heads and arms and guts began flying everywhere at the sounds of my brothers' guns.

I felt a little sick but that feeling soon drowned itself as I concentrated on the girl who was decorating the hood of the car.

"I am _so _sorry!" I blurted out as she moaned and I helped her sit up. "I was actually driving to save you and I wasn't looking because my brothers were—"

She stared at me for a moment and I wondered how dark her eyes were because, to me, they looked like black coals that were quickly getting ignited in anger over the entire situation. Not that I could blame her, mind you, but it was a point I could not get past it seemed.

I paused as she stared at me and she in turn reached up to her frizzed hair and began to stroke the hairline right above her left ear.

"Di'ju hit my head?" she asked.

"Possibly, I was going pretty fast," I admitted. "Sorry."

We both ducked as Mike, who apparently had been on the roof of the car at some point, leaped over us in order to get into more action in the midst of the zombie horde. I knew better than to give him any heed once he screamed "Cowabunga!" but the girl seemed less unphased.

"I guess I'm not dreamin'," She said before pouting by sticking out her plump lower lip. "I didn't think zombies could talk."

Staring at her, I tried to determine whether or not she was being serious before I shook my head. I then ignored as Raph and Mike argued who was going to kill the last one while Leo did the honors without acknowledging them.

"We're not zombies," I explained. "We're just… turtles. It's a long story and I really don't expect you to believe it, but we really were just trying to help you out when we heard you screaming."

Her face turned into a scowl and she cocked her head to the side as she sat up on the hood and placed a hand on her hip. "You kiddin'? I just got attacked by a buncha' slack jawed, dead monsters – mosta' which I went to high school with at P.S. One-Twenty-Three. I think believin' that you're a talkin' turtle is the leasta' my problems."

This made sense. My brothers and I hadn't tried to "socialize" because we had other priorities in an apocalypse, like surviving, but perhaps in this jaded state the city was in we could be more accepted. As long as we were willing to kill a few mutant corpses, of course.

"Well, I'm also a turtle with a name," I continued. "I'm Donatello. But you can call me Don."

She smirked and held out her delicate hand. "Nice'ta mee'cha, Don. I'm Cherish Williams."

I began to accept her hand when I heard the distinctive clicking of a gun being cocked and looked slightly to Cherish's left to see Raphael holding a revolver right above her ears. It was surreal to say the least.

Cherish didn't really move or anything, she seemed to be rather calm and collective about the situation, like it wasn't the worst life or death circumstance she's ever been in nor would it be the last. I had to admire how kick ass she seemed just by being so calm.

However, maybe that was because I was being so damn hysterical about the whole thing. I actually felt my cheeks get red and I began waving my hands, trying to get Raph's narrowed eyes off of the friend I had just made.

"Raph! What she shell!? She's not a zombie!" I snapped. "She's the one we were trying to save."

"You're smarter than that, Donny," he hissed in reply. "People don't escape from an entire horde chasin' them without being injured. Your girlfriend here is bit somewhere and that means that pretty soon she'll be looking for our brains to ingest."

"Are you mental?" I demanded. "She doesn't look bit to me!"

With that I looked to Cherish who just sat there, her jaw locked up in a pout as if she was trying to protest Raph's insanity by not speaking to him. Or maybe she was scare, hell if I know. I just knew that there was no way I was going to let this happen.

I turned to Leo and Mike as they approached. "Guys, what about honor? She needs help in this apocalypse, just like we do."

They looked to one another and then to Raphael who was ready to pull the trigger at any minute. I couldn't believe they weren't reacting faster. Could they not see that Cherish needed our help just as badly as Casey or April would have?

"What's her name?" Leo asked.

"Cherish," I responded. "Cherish Williams."

He nodded and walked over to her, his arms folded and a distinctly flat look about his face. She just glared back at him. "You're Cherish, right?"

"Yeah," she responded.

"How old are you?"

"Thirteen."

Leo sighed and rubbed his temples before looking at her more intently. It was nice to see Leo step up again. I missed him being leader and, in a way, I think Raph did to. I watched as Raph lowered the gun without even a glance from Leonardo.

I was confident as I knew that Cherish's fate rested in my older brother's hands.

"Who are you staying with during the Apocalypse? Are they close by? We can take you back to them safely," he continued, judging her every look.

"I'm not stayin' with anybody," she responded nonchalantly. "I wasn't stayin' with nobody before the infection either. Foster home. I don't know where any of the others are, I just know they aren't here 'n I'm not lookin' for 'em."

Leo looked to Raphael and I knew instantly it was going to be okay. Raph put up his gun.

He looked back to Cherish. "Think you can tolerate a trip up to Massachusetts to get to a safe house?"

"To get out of this Hell Hole city I'll do just about anything," Cherish responded before narrowing her eyes. "Just don't shoot me or hit me with your car again."

We agreed.

…

A/N: Please Review.


End file.
